Fire Emblem Post-Game Fanfiction (Crimson Flower Route)
by yukionnaboy
Summary: In the aftermath of the burning of Fhirdiad, the Adrestian Empire is now the undisputed ruler of Fodlan. But far in the east, the rulers of Shambhala make their move to take Fodlan for themselves. A continuation story of Crimson Flower. Author is also taking requests for post war drabbles and short, standalone stories. Now being rewritten.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Brazen Beast of Enbarr.

**Author's note: This story is being rewritten. **

* * *

The guards saluted Byleth as he slipped into the sitting room next to Edelgard's personal bedroom. The one on the left, an old Black Eagle veteran, his left eye forever shut from an Alliance sword, opened his mouth, but was silenced when Byleth put a single finger to his lips. Byleth moved closer to the man, glancing around as he leaned close to the two guards.

"Her Highness has not been seen for the entire day, and it's already past noon." Byleth offered to the two men, both of whom stood firm in dark red uniforms. "I don't suppose she's left her quarters today?"

Both guards shook their heads. "The maids were dismissed this morning. It seems her highness has been alone in her room for quite some time."

Byleth nodded as he took in the information, taking a quiet step back from the two men, turning quickly on his heel to face the window. The unfortunate part of summer was beginning to gnaw at the Empire, and the current heat wave was the first of many. But it was the nature of the land that the crops would need to be harvested and winter would overcome the nation. Even still, there were a few months before the first snow would grace the Imperial capital.

"Is anyone posted to the back door?" Byleth asked suddenly, as an idea lit up in his mind.

The younger guard seemed stunned, his face a mask of surprise, while the elder guard frowned, his eyebrows pinching together. "Wait, there's a back door?" the younger man asked, glancing in between the other guard and Byleth.

Byleth nodded as the elder guard shook his head. "I don't believe we have a post there".

"I'll take a look inside." Byleth said in a tone that left nothing to doubt. "I'll see if there's anything inside amiss and I'll let you know."

Both guards nodded, though Byleth noted the shared glance between the two men. But they gestured him forward. After all, who were they to deny the royal consort?

* * *

Byleth knocked on the door before he entered the room. "El?" He called out, loud enough for anyone in the room to hear, but quiet enough and positioned in a way that nobody outside the room he and the two guards standing with him could hear.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the room where the emperor rested did not reply. Byleth quietly pulled the well oiled doors back, taking a broad stride into the shadowed room that sat beyond him.

To his surprise however, Edelgard lay slumped over her desk, a heavy cloak draped over her shoulders.

"El!" Byleth hissed, marching in quickly as the two guards followed, their faces masks of alarm.

Much to their surprise, however, the emperor stirred at the exclamation, slowly pushing herself upright. She grimaced, as if in discomfort before noticing the three men standing before her.

Emperor Edelgard blinked as she glanced around, her arms stretching slowly and painstakingly around her midsection. Her pale hair resembled a used mop, undone the previous night, while her crown sat neatly on a shelf next to her.

"Get the Emperor some water." Byleth barked at the younger guard, who, perhaps stunned at being snapped at so suddenly, turned and practically bolted out of the room.

Edelgard shook her head in reply, clearly groggy from having been woken up so suddenly. "I'm fine." she managed "I can get water on my own."

"Too late. He's long gone." Byleth replied, his voice amused as he watched the figure disappear, his heavy armour and surprised shouts by the palace staff giving away his position.

Edelgard turned to the remaining guard as the other man's heavy steps faded into the distance. "Do pardon us."

The guard nodded and slipped back to his previous position, being far more subtle compared to his counterpart, firmly closing the door behind him.

Only when the door was closed did Edelgard rise from her chair, the heavy cloak slipping to the ground, the red cloth pooling in a neat circle around her chair.

Byleth reached down to pick up the heavy cloak, while Edelgard reached across the desk to pick up her fallen crown.

Byleth rose from his position on the ground and watched as Edelgard put the crown aside.

"Has the impossible happened?" Byleth asked as Edelgard turned her back to him.

"Hmm?" Edelgard replied, opening a side closet and fumbling with the clothes within.

"Has the impossible happened? Has the Empire finally had a quiet day?"

Edelgard chuckled. "No, I'm afraid not. Hubert volunteered to handle the paperwork today."

Byleth nodded, though his face was concerned. "I wonder how he's doing right now?"

* * *

In another wing of the Imperial Palace, Hubert von Vestra was seriously questioning his decisions as he read through another love letter dedicated to the Emperor. With a hiss of disgust, he scrunched the heavily perfumed paper into a small ball, taking a moment to sigh as the paper turned to ash.

"Yes, I understand that she has united the continent for the first time in several centuries." Hubert muttered to himself. "But why would anyone want to be crushed under another person's foot?"

The dark haired man loosened his cravat before wiping a sheen of sweat from his face, forcing a lock of his hair back in the process. He entertained the idea of simply setting fire to the room and drinking tea for the rest of the day, but decided against it. The walls deserved better than to suffer the indignity of snoot and ash.

With a sigh and a quick glance around, Hubert undid the buttons on his shirt, gently flapping the two sides together. It was informal of him yes, but the summer heat would not leave for another few weeks, possibly months.

Hubert took a small sip of iced tea before he flipped open another letter, grimacing at how the water was lukewarm and the ice had melted. He paused before he closed the letter again, and with a sigh, Hubert took a moment to force himself to down the rest of the drink before he turned back to the letter.

He skimmed the letter. It was obviously written in a hurry, as if a sudden burst of inspiration had seized the sender.

He read the letter again, but he failed to even finish it before his teeth clenched and a hiss escaped his lips. Not inspiration. Madness. Selling any possession of the Emperor would be heresy.

Slowly, with barely restrained fury, he read the letter for the third time, although he only managed to confuse himself.

"Some merchant wants to sell the Emperor's bathwater?" Hubert asked his empty study out loud.

* * *

"I'm sure he's fine." Edelgard said quietly as she undid her nightgown, slipping on a cream coloured blouse. Byleth turned away quickly, but not before he caught a flash of black lace against pale skin.

* * *

Hubert was not fine.

"Edelgard bath no." The man, a shade paler than usual, managed to gasp out, his hair a floppy mop as he desperately tried to get the image of Edelgard bathing out of his mind.

He had been fourteen when he walked in on the future emperor in the baths. She had made her displeasure known, and he had hopped out of the bath red-faced and with his right leg in terrible pain for three days.

Hubert gingerly reached down and rubbed the spot where Edelgard had struck him, groaning at the thought of even more, and potentially even more horrific letters hidden in the mail room.

A gasp behind him alerted him to the presence of another person. A servant, in her hands a jug of iced tea, stood at the door, her jaw having dropped.

Thankfully, the jug of tea in her arms did not fall to the ground.

"Ah," Hubert said, relieved that he no longer had to remember Edelgard in the bath, raising his arm to wave the woman in. "There you are, my thirst needs to be quenched."

Instead, the wretched woman flushed a shade of red and fled, his jug of iced tea with her.

Hubert growled. The heat, the idiotic letters, and now a silly servant got the better of him, and he threw himself out of his chair, taking bold strides in the direction of the fleeing woman, eager to give the serving girl a piece of his mind.

He was taller than the dark haired serving girl, who was clearly unfamiliar with the palace, for she fled into a guest hallway with four neatly locked doors.

With confident strides, Hubert marched down the hallway as the girl clung to the jug of tea, her face a mask of horror.

Behind him, he could hear the gasps of surprise from the few onlookers in the palace.

Hubert was not amused. He was the Minister of the Imperial Household! And he had to chase down his own iced tea?

He reached the cowering girl and looked down at her, his left arm found the wall as he glared down on the maid.

"May I have what is mine now?" Hubert asked in a tone he generally reserved for children.

A gasp, this time from behind him, forced him to turn, his face irritated as he glared at the crowd behind him.

"Can I help you?" Hubert glared at the half a dozen faces arraigned before him.

"Your shirt is undone, my liege." A male guard sputtered out, his face hidden behind his helmet.

"And?" Hubert asked as he hastily buttoned his shirt up again.

"Your cravat," the same guard managed, the others around the man stunned into silence.

Hubert glared at the man, slowly and deliberately crossing and uncrossing his fingers. "It is boiling hot today. Am I not allowed refreshment?"

The guard flushed red, the heat visible even as half his face was hidden behind his helmet.

Hubert groaned as he noticed more interlopers joined the scene, their faces a mixture of concern and shock.

One of the servants turned to a new arrival and chattered Dagdan, a language he was not particularly familiar with. Hubert blinked as a few words that he did recognize come to the forefront.

"Brazen beast in the capital?" Hubert asked the two women, both of whom froze and exchanged glances. "Where? And why must I deal with it in such heat?"

Hubert sighed as he summoned an orb of arcane might, preparing to destroy the so called beast. "And all I wanted today was to have my thirst quenched."

* * *

Byleth found his afternoon to be rather peaceful. Edelgard sat quietly in his lap, and both of them watched a small family of ducks swimming in the nearby river.

"I want to visit our friends again." Byleth said as the last of the ducks swam out of sight.

Edelgard shifted in his lap. He had caught her attention.

"I want to see the monastery again. I want to see the world as a common traveler, not a champion of the empire, not as the royal consort."

Edelgard nodded quietly as she sank deeper into Byleth's arms. "That does sound wonderful."

A rustling bush drew both of their attentions as Hubert emerged from a bush, his face lined with worry.

"Edelgard, professor," Hubert greeted, surprising both. "There is a brazen beast in the capital."

Edelgard groaned and closed her eyes, leaning back into Byleth's chest.

Byleth did his best to avoid laughing. A wayward branch was caught in Hubert's hair, and his state of undress would have raised eyebrows of every person in the palace.

"What is this… brazen beast?" Byleth asked Hubert, his tone serious despite the undone state of the Minister of the Imperial Household.

"I heard one of the servants mention it to another in a tongue native to Dagda, although I confess to never having seen one. She seemed quite worried." Hubert replied.

"Dagda." Byleth said quietly, repeating the word again. "I believe Shamir is due to return to the palace today. Perhaps she would have more insight on how to hunt this beast."

Hubert nodded. "I would hope so. We know almost nothing of this beast, and yet it is in the heart of our empire."

With a sigh, Edelgard rose from her position, offering a hand to her consort, her face serious, although Byleth saw the annoyance half-hidden in her eyes.

* * *

The group found Shamir as she lined up another shot at the archery range. Hubert, perhaps impatient, made a move forward, but was gently blocked by Byleth, who shook his head lightly. A moment later, Shamir let an arrow fly, the sharp point finding a distant target far, far away.

Bernadetta would be immensely jealous.

Gingerly, Shamir lowered her bow and looked toward the group, surprised at the presence of the three most powerful people in the empire.

It was Byleth who broke the ice, snapping the stunned mercenary back to attention.

"Sorry to bother you Shamir, but Hubert needs to speak with you."

At the cue, Hubert stood slightly taller and straighter. "A servant mentioned in a Dagdan tongue that there was some sort of brazen beast in the capital."

Shamir frowned at the words, lowering her bow and looking around the archery range. "I haven't the slightly clue what a brazen beast is."

"Not even you?" Hubert asked, astonished. "It must be a very rare creature if you have not been tasked with taking one down in the past."

Shamir shrugged as she hopped the fence to retrieve her arrows from the deserted range. When she returned, a short stroll later, she continued. "I can't help you there, my work mainly centred around killing bandits and rogues. Although I would like to meet the servants who mentioned the beast."

"Fair enough." Hubert replied, turning on his heel and walking back to the main palace.

"Professor?" Shamir asked the moment Hubert was out of earshot. "Why does Hubert have a branch in his hair?"

Byleth and Edelgard both snickered at the question. "Long story, don't question it." Byleth replied.

* * *

The trip to the servant quarter was marked by silence and many a wary glance. Sure, it wasn't every day that the emperor, her consort, and the Minister of the Imperial Household, along with the captain of the guard made a beeline for the servant's quarter, but almost every soldier, merchant, and servant seemed to stare at the Minister of the Imperial Household leading the party forward.

"Truly a brazen beast." A Dagdan guard muttered as the Minister of the Imperial Household turned a sharp corner.

Shamir spun on her heel to face the man. Edelgard and Byleth paused too as Hubert was lost to the depths of the palace.

"And where is this brazen beast?" Shamir asked the guard as he snapped to horrified attention, Edelgard and Byleth taking up her flanks and cutting off any escape route the unfortunate man had.

Nearby, others paused quietly to gawk as the man squirmed under three sets of demanding eyes.

Shamir sighed as she looked away, her arms crossed around her midsection. "Do tell us about this brazen beast. We will need to know what we are looking for."

The guard paused, his face a mask of confusion. "Pardon?" He spluttered, turning bright red.

Byleth intervened as the guard looked seemingly for a way to escape. "We have heard rumours of this brazen beast. We fear it will harm the crop harvests if it gets into the fields."

The guard blinked again. Byleth continued. "We need to know everything you can tell us about this beast.

"A brazen beast is a man who sleeps with other men's wives and seduces virgins." The guard finally managed, coughing weakly, as if to stifle laughter. "That's what the term means."

Shamir looked at the guard, the emperor, then at the direction Hubert went in. "I had no idea. I was gone long before anyone mentioned those things to me."

Edelgard glanced at the drab, utilitarian walls of the palace's servant wing. "I think we do owe Hubert enough to find him."

A shriek from deeper in the servant's quarters turned the assembled crowd toward the hallway Hubert had marched into, the crowd parting as the Minister of the Imperial Household practically leapt out of the hallway, landing heavily on the ground.

Behind him, six servants ran out, brooms and mops in hand, their faces lined with murderous rage.

Edelgard winced as two guards marched forward into the crowd, averting her gaze when one of them stepped on Hubert.

Byleth, being a good husband, realized that all six of the servants attempting to attack Hubert were naked, quickly looking away.

Shamir covered her face with her hands. "I see he's found the servant baths." she muttered to nobody in particular.

* * *

When Hubert was released from the palace infirmary, he returned to his personal study in a slight daze. Surely the entire palace had heard about how the "Brazen Beast" had been thwarted by a half dozen brooms and mops.

Hubert opened the door to find the sun setting on Enbarr, the light blinding him for a brief moment before he shielded his face. He sat down on his bed, intent to go to bed early after the debacle of the day.

Hubert glanced at his nightstand after removing his boots. Still in his socks, Hubert opened the third of fifth drawers on the nightstand, pulling out his favourite bottle of whiskey. He sighed as he poured himself a single shot, sharply turning the bottle up at the last moment to prevent spilling.

Hubert then forced himself to drink the lukewarm whiskey, quietly slipping into bed afterward. Perhaps one day he would go to a club somewhere, have a nice, quiet meal in the presence of refined peers.

But that was for another day, Hubert decided as he slipped into the waiting bed, having returned the slightly lighter bottle to its place.

* * *

**AN: **The first chapter and its assorted spelling errors have been cleaned up. Hurrah.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The actual story begins.

* * *

It was shortly before midnight when Hubert found himself alone on the outskirts of Enbarr, walking alongside the busy nightlife of one of the more seedy neighbourhoods of the capital. His path was lit only sporadically by lamps, and it had been quite some time since he had seen a soldier or constable walking the streets. However, Hubert knew the streets well, and his route, while longer than a direct trip to his destination, most certainly avoided a troublesome whorehouse and two taverns serving questionable ale and even more questionable meat.

Perhaps it was a coincidence, but he found that the area had a notorious shortage of stray cats and dogs, not that he would admit to ever caring.

He did care however, about how the events of the day had left him unable to sleep, hence leaving him little choice but to walk the streets of Enbarr.

He slowed his pace before stopping at a corner, glancing at a set of cobbles he had once seen a man bleed out on. It was the first time he had watched someone die before his own eyes, yet with the passage of almost seven years and thousands of deaths, the initial shock he had suffered seemed to be little more than a distant memory. Hubert let his gaze wander for a moment, his eyes settling on another cobblestone where a brave young idiot had made their final stand. He amused himself by thinking of how the poorly dressed noble had unconvincingly waved a poorly maintained rapier against a gang of laughing assassins, dying when one finally got bored and fired a crossbow quarrel true.

Hubert was glad when the man did. At least he had paid for one professional assassin out of seven. The other six assassins were either playing a cruel game, drunk, had seriously missed crossbow leg day, or some unholy combination of all three. It was unthinkable that they missed six shots at practically point blank range, barely grazed their victim with two more, and had hit an unfortunate drunk with a particularly awful shot.

Hubert glanced at the spot where the drunk had bled out. It was a pathetic scene. He had even seen bandits die less pathetically and melodramatically.

Hubert snapped out of the world of the past when he heard a pebble clatter against the cobbles behind him. A third rate pickpocket in all likelihood. Potentially a mugger. He tightened his fist, feeling an immense amount of arcane power bow to his will as he rose several inches above the ground.

Perhaps noticing that his intended victim was actually floating, instead of walking, like most mugging victims did, the figure behind him hastily turned away, taking rapid and nervous strides away from the man on the corner, obviously and wisely attempting to find easier prey.

Hubert let a grim sneer grace his lips before turning his heel toward his final destination, a third, unassuming tavern deeper in the maze that was Enbarr's outskirts. It was more exclusive than the other two, though the exterior was in dire need of new paint and the roof needing new tiles. What truly set the tavern apart was what lay inside the tavern, and he had opened enough wrong doors to know exactly why the vices he saw inside would never be accepted elsewhere.

The house also served delicious pot roasts, but he had already eaten a fairly awkward dinner in the palace alongside Edelgard and Byleth, so he soldiered on and made a mental note to return another day.

The once great tavern had been converted into a house of unspeakable vice, enough for any citizen caught partaking to suffer a great deal of public shame. Yet even here, he had never met anyone mad enough to demand to be crushed under another's foot or claim the bath waters of another patron.

Hubert opened the front door and was greeted by a man stepping on another man. In high heeled boots. Both men otherwise naked.

Ah, so Hubert was wrong. What a shame, he wanted to keep his dinner down. It was a good cut of pork that didn't belong on the nice clean floor of the tavern.

Around them, about a dozen observers watched on, equal parts male and female, their faces enamoured by the display that was being seared into Hubert's mind. Then as one, they seemed to turn their heads at Hubert, surprised they had a visitor so late in the evening.

"Ahh, we were wondering where the prostitute we hired was." One of the men, wearing a mask that vaguely looked like a pig's snout, offered cheerfully.

Without even a word of greeting, Hubert shook his head and spun to the left, hastily fleeing down a flight of stairs that lead to the basement of the tavern, jumping the final four steps in a panicked leap, though the small crowd noticed his attempt at escape, and more than one traced his path to the basement below.

He was so desperate that he almost battered the door down before one of the occupants inside managed to open it, leaving Hubert sprawled on the ground as the man in the dim basement dismissed any curious onlookers that Hubert's entrance had attracted.

"I need a drink." Hubert declared, still sprawled on the ground when the door swung shut, to which the door opener nodded, turning to a nearby table and pulling a flask from it.

As he rose from his position on the ground, Hubert was greeted with a welcome shot of bourbon, which he downed in a single gulp.

Hubert rose up quietly as he dusted his clothes off, still in close proximity to the man who was now wiping away the shot glass.

"I apologize for coming in so late." Hubert said calmly as the man turned his back on him.

The man chuckled as he returned to his dimly lit desk, his features unusually frightening in the darkness and his slight frame choked with grim laughter.

"So," the man asked as he sat down, gesturing Hubert to a chair off to the side of the crowded basement, "to what do I owe this particular pleasure to? Surely you have more important things to attend to than poor little me, mighty Brazen Beast of Enbarr."

Hubert sat down and rubbed his eyes gingerly, trying to purge the memories of the two men upstairs. His subtle glances at the roof however, caught the eye of the man sitting across from him, and he joined Hubert in glancing up.

The man Hubert sat with chuckled when they returned their gaze back to the desk and the rich bourbon that sat on it. "It wasn't always this open. Before those idiots in the church tried to rebel, people generally did keep their more strange habits to themselves. As for their celebratory mood, let us remember they have lived through five long years of war. Perhaps a few nights of debauchery could be excused."

Hubert glanced at the ceiling again. Even with the solid wood floors and multiple layers of reinforced logs separating him from the debacle upstairs, Hubert could still hear grunts of pleasure and gasps of amazement from the audience.

Just as he looked back at the man shrouded in dark, Hubert heard a loud gasp above and rancorous applause.

His host shook his head with a small wince, the look in his eyes apologetic, and his face no longer that of a nightmare. "They pay well and are safe. No idiots playing with matches. Nobody dropping hot wax on each other."

Hubert joined him in the head shake. "Let's forget about them, and what's left of the previous tavern as well. I'm here to discuss something very important."

The man behind the desk nodded as he sat back into his chair, his laid back demeanor having gone out the window. "Alright then. There's a lot of things more important than a pack of hedonists and a pile of charcoal. What is it that you want? Another head that needs to roll? An old man who goes into the next life in his sleep? A purge you want me to oversee? My grandmother's pot roast recipe?"

Hubert shook his head, closing his eyes. "No, erm. It's none of those things."

The assassin cheerfully slammed a hidden knife into the desk. "Good. I would have killed anyone who wanted that recipe, although it's a shame I'm without decent paying work for the next while."

Hubert sighed at the antics of his host. "It's about Shambhala and the emperor's uncle."

The man behind the desk snorted before gesturing Hubert closer. "I figured that was the case. I figured you wanted to consolidate your power anyhow. Maybe get rid of that pesky rogue faction."

Hubert leaned in as the man lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, both of them huddled over the desk.

"But when it comes to those slithering in the dark, I'm curious what approach you want to take. Publically putting Thales to death would raise some eyebrows, and probably see Enbarr become a pile of ashes, though poisoning him quietly would also likely lead to Enbarr becoming a crater."

Hubert drew back from his position and settled back into his chair. Finally, he nodded his head in agreement.

"As for a potential full scale purge, we would actually, you know, have to find their agents before we can get to the fun murdery bits." The man paused before he leaned back into his chair. "A knife in between ribs is easy enough. Finding the right set of ribs to cut into, is a much more difficult prospect, especially if we are dealing with forces not actually in Enbarr or Shambhala."

Hubert nodded confirmation. "We can assume Shambhala is the biggest hideout these worms have, but surely there is more than one out there, especially in former Kingdom and Alliance territory, both of which we only have limited knowledge of the lay of the land."

Seeing his expression, the man before him continued, gently pouring another drink, with his eyes drilling a hole in the glass and table.

"But we must remember that these places are parallel societes to us." The assassin sitting before him stated as their gazes met. "Those who slither in the dark may only have a single major base in this mysterious Shambhala, but it also might have smaller ones. If we lay waste to Shambhala, whatever it is, how are we going to prevent a potentially hidden city from firing on Enbarr or any of the Empire's new gains?"

Just as the assassin finished, the back door leading to the street creaked open, and grunts could be heard from a man descending the stairs.

Perhaps out of a sense of duty that came with running a tavern, Hubert's host hurriedly rose from his seat and helped the man out, carrying a box of vegetables that would go on the next day's menu.

The other man, a humble employee who Hubert had first met at an orphanage, poured himself a long drink as his boss set aside the vegetables, Hubert losing track of the conversation as the two discussed regional spices that were in season, though he watched intensely as the man sorted out what would go on the menu and what would be preserved for later.

It was a boring talk, the kind of thing that commoners with free time did as they would.

"What is your opinion on those who lurk in the dark as a society?" Hubert asked the man suddenly, drawing his attention as he set down his glass.

"I'm not a giggling nutjob remember? I didn't even meet the two guards they sent to watch over her."

The assassin chimed in as he turned around, wiping a thin sheen of sweat from his brow. "As I see it, it's an interesting society. Not many are capable and willing to raise insane monsters like Kronya."

"Getting into blind guesswork huh? Guess I could take a swing." The labourer sneered as he downed another finger of alcohol. "Either whatever hellhole she crawled out of was self sufficient, in which case I would like to see how they did it, or they had help from regular merchants and citizens, in which case they left some trail behind for us to follow, especially if this winter is harsher than usual."

Hubert closed his eyes as he tried to remember the insane Kronya. It wasn't a difficult task. Her choice of clothing alone made her unforgettable, and her insanity made even the other monster look like Bernadetta in comparison.

"Let me give you an example of what my friend here means by self sufficient." The assassin said quietly, pausing as he downed a shot of bourbon. "That blade that girl carried. Athame, if memory serves correctly. Someone out there mined the ore the blade was made from. Someone smelted that ore into metal that could be fashioned into a blade. Someone took a hammer to it while the metal was burning hot to forge it. Someone taught that girl to use it and keep it. And that's assuming there wasn't a professional blade designer involved in the process."

Hubert nodded as he gestured for the drink. "At least four people apart from Kronya were involved with it. And if even one of them wasn't part of their society, and indeed counted themselves within our society, they would lead a trail of some sort."

"And if all four of them were part of the same society, outside our own, then we have a second empire in the dark, capable of wiping out one of Fodlan's largest cities in the blink of an eye, with a considerable amount of people within it. And that's a problem that should be solved." The assassin drawled. "Preferably quickly."

Hubert downed the liquor as he sat back into his seat, thinking of the man's words.

A thunderous crash of wood against stone seized his attention wholly, and the two hosts scrambled to their feet, with the tavern owner grabbing a dark bronze meat cleaver from a blade holder on a nearby shelf.

Even in the dim light, Hubert saw that the man's playful nature had gone out the nearest window, and the way the light reflected on his aged features made him look like a demon.

Hubert scrambled up as he glanced at the back door, which crashed open a moment later, a soldier with a heavy club on the other end.

Ahh, so that was where the city guards were. Very sneaky. He would have approved, if he wasn't in the building being raided.

Hubert found his attention drawn to the main door. Perhaps if they moved swiftly, they could slip into the night.

The door fell off its hinges, and Hubert decided maybe he should have postponed his visit, perhaps summoned the assassin to a nice, quiet restaurant in a nicer quarter of town. Surely the tavern owner would have passed for an elderly gentleman.

Much to his shock, Shamir staggered through the door that lead to the tavern and the orgy, and stopped dead at the sight of Hubert staring back at her.

Before anyone could speak, Hubert noted Shamir was a bit pale.

She glanced at the assistant shopkeeper, who stared back, before turning her gaze to the horrified face of Hubert, before glancing at the proprietor of the shop, who still wielded a massive meat cleaver.

Before she could speak, a crashing body came close to knocking Shamir over, though the woman noticed the large figure falling and dodged, rolling away from the doorway as one of the many revellers from the first floor landed heavily in the space where she had stood mere seconds ago.

The poor assistant made the fatal mistake of moving closer to the body when a second reveller flew down the particularly long flight of stairs, landing face first into the still twitching form of the first reveller.

"Paul! They're onto us! We need to escape!"

The assassin facepalmed with his remaining hand.

The man at the foot of the stairs hastily stood up, exposing to all in the room that he was naked, as well as the fact that he had never learned how to shave.

The assistant turned away in horror, his face green, and even Hubert had to turn his nose away at the stink of body odour.

"Didn't ya hear me Paul man?" The reveller, who Hubert could tell was heavily intoxicated, babbled on. "We need to escape!"

A third body fell, this time a heavily armoured soldier who brought his whole body down on the legs of unfortunate drunk, who sprawled forward, grasping at Shamir.

Hubert blasted the man with one of his weaker spells, forcing him away from Shamir, watching as the man contort into the best impression of a dead spider that Hubert had ever seen.

A shout in the street grabbed Hubert's attention as both Paul and the assistant scrambled up the back staircase, Hubert hot on their heels.

"Where are we going?" Hubert asked in a hushed tone as he slipped into the back alleyway, glancing over to see the soldier who should have been guarding the door fighting two nearby drunks.

"I suggest you split up once we reach safety. The Minister of the Imperial Household should not be caught walking alongside a commoner and a professional criminal."

The assistant nodded. "Shame we had to leave that place though, it would be very difficult to restart over again."

"Naive brat." The assassin chuckled. "I own many more."

The young man looked stunned at his employer's words. "Wait, really?"

The older man snorted as he ran, tossing his cleaver off to the side, the heavy blade landing neatly behind a heavy crate.

"Worst case, some fool gets a new knife for free. Would be too much of a bother to find it. Cheaper to replace the blade."

Hubert nodded at the words, though the party still ran through streets he wasn't familiar with.

Turning left on a particular corner, he noticed that the quality of the buildings had changed.

He also noticed the assistant had fallen into exhausted gasping, and the assassin had stopped, the assassin glancing around the street with paranoid eyes.

"We should be safe enough and far away enough for us to walk like normal citizens." The ever vigilant assassin said once the assistant caught his breath. "But just for good measure, Hubert, I will escort you to a safer and quieter district before we part ways."

Hubert nodded his thanks as he began a slow walk behind the assassin.

Reaching a different, much cleaner and brighter district, the older man waved Hubert off, his posture turning to resemble a respectable gentleman. "We part ways here. Send a message to the house if you wish to meet me."

Hubert nodded as he rose to his full height, taking on the appearance of a haughty noble as his two companions slipped away, their footsteps more hushed in the night.

* * *

It was an odd sight to see Hubert nervous. Even when the war against the church reached its darkest hour, her personal confidant was cold and logical. Now, for some reason, he appeared worried. It was an obvious sight, even from the corner of her eye. His hands were clasped firmly behind his back. A surefire tell that he very rarely showed. The dark circles on his eyes and the uncomfortable guards beside him suggested they had been with him for some time, and were equally nervous.

"Hubert." Edelgard ordered as she sipped her morning tea. "Come in."

Turning from her desk, the emperor rose from her seat, content with the number of reports she had read on the growing season. A few bandit attacks and lesser beasts did raise some eyebrows, but little else was out of the ordinary. It was a quiet year, and hopefully the first of many to come.

Hubert arrived before her with a slight nod of his head.

"I would like to tell you my side of the story before Shamir tells hers." Hubert offered.

Byleth, sick from a cold, tossed a pillow at his direction from the bed.

Edelgard raised an eyebrow in turn, finishing her tea and tossing the pillow back at Byleth. To her credit, she hit the imperial consort's face with the heavy pillow, and Hubert could swear he heard Byleth's surprised voice under the pillow.

"Come, let's walk in the gardens while we talk." Edelgard said as she opened a back entrance to the gardens.

Hubert nodded and glanced around the royal sitting room, quietly following Edelgard outside. She had changed little, except pulling a dark cloak out of her closet and draping it over her shoulders.

The pair walked in silence for some time, savouring the early morning air.

"How are the people of Faerghus doing?" Edelgard asked. "Are they well prepared to see through this winter?"

Hubert grimaced. "There are few places we can house them, if we are going to be honest. Both major cities in the former Kingdom have been sacked and badly damaged. It is unlikely they will be repaired in time for the first snow. As for the former citizens of the Kingdom, a few have made it as far as Enbarr. But growing operations in the north have been largely been unaffected, apart from Tailtean Plains, which has been converted to a refugee camp. It is mainly the city folk that have suffered. Especially from bandits and highwaymen."

Edelgard paused at his words. "I received word that former church soldiers were committing acts of banditry against civilians. Is this true?"

Hubert nodded. "Some of these bandits have since been taken alive, and they indicated they believed what crimes they had been committing were just, even against unarmed civilians. Something about avenging the church. Others may just be your run of the mill bloodthirsty killers."

Edelgard shook her head in disgust. "Send word to Linhardt to open up the Holy Tomb as a staging ground or campsite. We will use the monastery as a staging ground for shipping food up north. I would rather see the holy tomb be used as a camp in the winter or a storehouse for food rather than lie empty and unused."

Hubert turned to look at a nearby flowing stream. "I've also received reports that roughly two thirds of the surviving Kingdom and Church forces have either disbanded or have offered to serve us."

"Put the professional soldiers to work guarding roads and outposts. Mounted cavalry should be used to hunt down bandits, and larger units, if available, should be devoted to hunting beasts. Ensure their salary is maintained, at least for the time being. Might as well have all the gold we seized be put to good use for once."

Hubert looked around for a quill, before seeming to remember that he was outside.

"If there are any peasant levies amongst the Kingdom forces, have them dismissed from armed service and contribute to the harvest and organization of the relief effort. They will serve a greater purpose as millers of wheat or harvesters of grain than as sixth rate militia. After all, the war is over."

Edelgard paused as she pushed back a loose strand of her hair, which was tied in a bun while her crown sat untouched on her nightstand.

"See that they are paid well for their work. I do not intend for my subjects in Faerghus to starve or for my reign to mark a return to slavery."

Hubert paused, but to his credit, didn't look for a quill.

Hubert nodded. "Should we convene with the rest of the Black Eagles to discuss this operation? I believe some of them would have valuable insights."

Edelgard smiled at the words. "But of course, we are due for a meeting at Garreg Mach soon anyhow. It will be a good time as any to meet."

Hubert nodded. "How should we frame this to the public? Something about making sure the refugees are well supported for the winter? Possibly checking up on the injured of the war?"

Edelgard nodded. "I suppose so. Such a move would allow us just a little bit of privacy."

"I can arrange that." Hubert offered, quickly bowing, eager to be on his way.

A hand found Hubert's shoulder as he turned.

"I would however, like for you to explain yourself in relation to poor Shamir." Edelgard said in an unnaturally cheerful state.

Hubert swallowed. His escape had been foiled.

"I was discussing the nature of Shambhala with Paul."

Edelgard blinked, probably not fully awake. "Who is Paul again?"

Hubert coughed lightly. "Paul is the cleaner who made our reforms go smoothly."

Edelgard seemed to pause for a short moment before her face lit up. "Oh, the one with the crossbow?"

Hubert nodded before he winced. "Yes, that one, the only capable marksman out of all seven we hired."

Edelgard opened her mouth to say something before seemingly taking it back, choosing instead to look at the early morning sun rising over Enbarr. "I didn't hire him, you did. Something about security once we met Shambhala."

Hubert nodded. "I'm glad it didn't come down to that."

Edelgard sighed as she turned to follow Hubert back to the palace. "I'll talk to Shamir. See her side of the story before making a final judgement. Take the day off. You need some sleep and for this whole thing to blow over."

Hubert bowed and turned to leave.

"And Hubert?"

Hubert stopped and turned back at Edelgard's call.

"Try not to grow the legend of the Beast of Enbarr. It is becoming a distraction."

Hubert nodded before he hastily fled back into the palace.

* * *

Seteth glanced around at the wooden cottage that he had lived in for the past few months. It was a quiet place, sturdily built several decades prior, but it had served its purpose.

He then looked at the exhausted family at his doorstep.

A man stood at point, his frame long and his clothes ragged. There was a certain desperation in his eyes, and Seteth glanced at a dagger, barely concealed by his filthy cloak.

Behind him, a woman, her stomach bloated with a child, stood by her husband. Whereas her husband had a certain desperate fire still in his eyes, the woman had sunken eyes and a face that simply looked defeated.

As he turned his gaze to the moving bush behind them, the man seemed to follow his gaze.

A child with sunken eyes popped out of the bush, eating handful after handful of berries.

Seeing three sets of eyes staring back at him, he popped back down, although the bush kept shaking.

"My sister Flayn grew those berries, but I suppose if your child is hungry, she won't mind." Seteth offered awkwardly. "If you intend to come in, please put the dagger away."

The man flinched, but seeing the glare on Seteth's face, tossed the blade to the ground.

Seteth glanced at the rust gnawed blade. The misshapen blade and clumsy hilt told him that it was a half-baked makeshift weapon. Useless scrap metal sharpened in desperation, or possibly a weapon taken off the corpse of a bandit.

"Please come in."

* * *

It was shortly before dawn when Yurius returned to the small cabin that acted as their outer defensive strongpoint.

He sighed at the sight of his partner slumped over in a corner, fast asleep. It had been a boring patrol, but with Shambhala on lockdown, it was not exactly a great time to be caught napping on the job.

"Ryan." Yurius said in a measured tone, probing for any kind of response from the younger man.

A grunt and confused muttering escaped his partner before the boy fell back into the world of dreams.

"Ryan." Yurius said again, his voice a tad bit louder this time, sighing when the boy muttered something about minutes.

Yurius glanced at the door for a minute before he decided to wake Ryan. It was a few minutes before dawn would break and their replacements would arrive shortly. It would be very bad if Ryan would be caught sleeping on duty

Yurius gently shook Ryan as he kept vigil over the door. If they were lucky, perhaps one of their replacements would be late.

And then Ryan woke, still blinking sleep out of his eyes.

"Good morning." Yurius said in a hushed tone, his vision gazing at the door again. "Make yourself presentable. The next patrol should come around shortly, and unless you want to be cleaning latrines, I suggest you look alert."

Ryan, surprised by Yurius's aggressive tone, nodded nervously, the last hints of sleep leaving his face as he quickly snapped back to attention.

"Sorry, I've just been doing a lot of training." Ryan explained awkwardly. "I didn't expect to be sent out of Shangri-La so early."

Yurius shrugged. "We expected large numbers of refugees to move once the war was over, and getting caught up in that would not be good."

"Spite say that to you?" Ryan asked.

Yurius shook his head. "Mortis said something along those lines when you came here."

Yurius paused when he noticed the younger man stiffen, glancing back at the door again and offering Ryan a hand up. "They'll be here any minute now."

Ryan nodded as he pulled himself to his feet gingerly. "I usually don't sleep so much, but I've been working on my spear skills a lot."

Yurius nodded. "Who are you training with?"

Ryan shrugged. "Almost anyone who has time has tried to help me at one point or another. Some being more helpful than others. I was hoping that Mortis could help me later."

Yurius snorted. "Mortis doesn't train people, and she also doesn't date."

Ryan flinched, and Yurius sighed as he slowly walked to the door. "There's a reason she's still single Ryan. Everyone in my generation is already taken except for her."

Ryan followed at an unsteady pace, stretching his muscles after the difficult position he had slept in. "I just really want to know more about her."

Yurius shook his head. "You really don't want to know more about Mortis. She's not really into guys anyway."

Ryan looked nervous. "Is she mean?"

Yurius snorted as he halfheartedly opened the door. "Mortis is the nicest person in Shambhala.

Ryan opened his mouth, glanced at Yurius, glanced behind Yurius, and saluted.

Yurius turned around and found himself staring down the pointed plague mask of a mage.

"Mortis is most certainly not the nicest person in Shambhala." The mage offered cheerfully. "Did you see what she did to poor William?"

Ryan looked curious. "What she did to William?"

The mage filed in, followed by a bored looking archer. "Why are you talking about that buffoon?"

Ryan looked scared. "What are you guys talking about anyways?"

The archer shrugged. "Oh, it's the new guy. Nobody ever told you then."

The mage turned his head and focused on the sun rising in the distance. "Legend has it that she killed him without even touching him. I mean, damn, that was cold of her."

"Got away with it too. Spite didn't do shit."

Ryan looked horrified. "Seriously, what the hell are you guys talking about?"

"Mortis." Yurius, the mage, and the archer all chimed as one.

"I said it first." The mage said after with a small laugh, while the archer crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

"Story goes that William tried to hit on Mortis." The archer said with a shake of his head. "She insulted him, he got angry, and it all went to hell from there."

Seeing the horrified look on Ryan's face, the mage continued. "He tried to punch her a couple of times. And that was his mistake."

"Hitting her?" Ryan asked, his voice betraying his curiosity.

"No, of course not, trying to hit her in front of Spite was his problem. Spite was furious."

"That and making half the people in Shambhala hate him. Nobody shed a tear for that worthless scumbag."

"What did he do?" Ryan asked.

Yurius answered. "He hit on basically every woman in Shambhala. They didn't like that, and their male friends most certainly didn't like that."

Ryan stood stunned. "So erm, what happened?"

"Mortis spat on his face and told him that was all he was going to get from her." The mage said with a laugh and a shake of the head.

"He lost it and charged her. She stepped to the side, he tripped, and broke his back in the fall." Yurius explained with a shrug.

Ryan looked stunned. "How?"

The mage laughed. "Yurius here didn't mention how poor Will fell down three flights of stairs."

"And Spite didn't do anything?"

Yurius chuckled along with the other two. "Will hit on both of Spite's sisters. Spite was probably angry that he didn't get to strange Will himself. He wrote the death off as a death by misadventure and tossed Will into the nearest incinerator. Oh, and he may or may not have broken Will's neck after he fell from the stairs."

Ryan looked disturbed and sat down, any sign that he might have been asleep gone out the nearest window. "I have something to confess."

All three men looked at him at the words. "Oh really?" Yurius asked, his tone amused.

"I told Mortis I wanted a one on one training session this afternoon."

"What for?" The archer asked, his tone inquisitive. "She's very good with her knife, and she's a damn good mage, but not much else. Spite is the senior weapons master, not Mortis."

The mage shrugged. "Yurius, did he miss anything or was that accurate?"

Yurius nodded. "She doesn't like the idea of a fair fight, so I guess that's a pretty accurate description of Mori Mori. And she isn't even capable of using healing magic."

The mage scoffed. "Nobody here likes the idea of a fair fight. Not Thales, not Spite, and certainly not Mortis, but I've seen her use basic recovery spells."

"What does she like anyways?" The archer asked, now comfortably perched on a chair and juggling an apple. "Yurius, you did run with her on a year long mission. Does she really do nothing except turn her nose up at people and sneer?"

Ryan looked surprised at the news. "Really?"

"Not alone though on the mission. We were just there to babysit Kronya. And that job was done almost exclusively by Mortis, I mainly just tagged along."

"You didn't do squat?" The mage asked, his voice amused. "And what's up with Mori Mori?"

"I stood there and looked scary. And don't mention that nickname around her unless you want to be found with a broken neck. Only three people ever called her that, and two of them are dead."

"Georgi told me the Emperor's personal pet looks like a monster out of a fairy tale. Is that true?"

Yurius laughed bitterly. "Hubert and Mortis looked like they either wanted to strangle each other, murder each other, or get in one another's pants. I mean, that's how you met your girl wasn't it?"

"Oh shut up." The mage snarled, his voice tight and his body tense.

"You could never have told if those two were going to kill each other first or get into bed first." The archer said in between bites of apple.

"And we aren't friends anymore, traitor." The mage said, his arms crossed as he turned back to the door.

"Don't mind him, we should be all done here." The archer said as he leapt to his feet, off to throw the apple core off the mountain cliff. "Good luck with your training session."

Ryan nodded as he followed both men out of the lodge, Yurius following him silently as he shielded his eyes from the morning light.

* * *

Edelgard looked grumpy when her favourite body pillow wasn't in bed with her.

Byleth found it adorable how she simply replaced him with her second favourite body pillow, the teddy bear he had gotten her five years prior.

Shaking his head at the sight of his beloved, Byleth paused in the small drawing room where the painting of him lay unfinished.

It was cute of Edelgard to try to hide it from him. And even cuter of her to try to finish it when she thought he was sleeping.

What was not cute was the fact that she had once fallen asleep inside the room well into the early hours of the morning.

While he was still sick.

And very annoyed that a guard had to wake him up in the early hours of the morning.

"Not even Hubert was awake, and they chose to wake me of all people?"

"I'm sorry sir. But we weren't sure what to do." One of the guards said from the open doorway, her tone humiliated. "We found it romantic that you carried her back to bed though."

Byleth gingerly clenched and unclenched his fists. "Edelgard has been eating too many sweets. I almost dropped her that night."

"Could it be the crown?" The guard asked. "That thing looks really heavy."

Byleth thought about it. "Yes, that's a good point. That damned thing probably weighs enough to be used as a hammer."

The guard snorted before she turned back around.

Byleth turned back to the painting, and then rose to his feet. "See to it that her blue is replaced. She's running very low."

"Of course, your highness." The guard replied.

"I'm going back to bed, and she won't have to make do with a teddy bear."

"Yes, your highness." The guard said, her face flaming red.

"Let nobody into this room, and nobody goes into the bedroom unless it's Hubert or Dorothea."

The guard nearly fell over, but nodded. "Yes your highness."

* * *

**AN**: As explained earlier, there has been a slight issue here with how I spelt "Thales". That has been corrected. A few minor details have been retconned.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Grill lightly.**

* * *

Dorothea found herself awake shortly before Enbarr came alive. The early summer heat had seen to that.

She found herself alone in a small house in an isolated corner of the imperial capital, bought under a false name and paid for in full by church gold.

It was a convenient meeting spot for the members of the Black Eagle Strike Force, with the house having a small staff overseeing her needs.

It was a quiet morning, and despite the fact that the sun was still rising,the occasional dark cloud leered overhead, a hint of potential rain later in the day.

Perhaps she would go out and wander the streets of her quiet district, perhaps see if anything in the market was in season, though the midday sun would make any attempt at going out rather miserable.

Perhaps she would visit an orphanage, and spend her time with children who, with good fortune, might never have to go to sleep hungry.

But that was all in the future, Dorothea decided, as she took a long draw of the tea that she had made.

* * *

It was a sense of great wonder seeing the mad goddess that had manipulated the world for so many centuries dead at his feet, Sylvain decided, alone in the charred ruins that made up the former kingdom's capital.

He turned back to the rising sky in the east and sighed.

"What does she even see in him?" Sylvain asked out loud, shaking his head as he turned back to the carcass of the Immaculate One.

"Who are you talking about?" A voice, all too male and certainly not Felix asked from behind him, the sound of steps on the ruined stone of the grand pavilion drawing ever closer.

Sylvain turned back to find the silver haired Ashe walking toward him, his usually friendly face hardening at the sight of the dead dragon.

"Night rides are certainly uncomfortable." Ashe offered. "Bad enough I'm almost blind in the dark."

Sylvain nodded. "I hear you. I'm hoping for good news. Felix is getting cranky and Ingrid is refusing to speak to me."

Ashe raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"

Sylvain sighed. "It's mostly a reflection of how badly the war has changed us. I've walked these streets so many times since I got here."

Ashe nodded. "It is troubling what happened. I knew the church was bad, but I don't think even Edelgard could have dreamt of all this."

Sylvain nodded. "All this has just made the other two jumpy. Felix, for some reason, keeps muttering about steak and cake in his sleep. Ingrid has been giving me weird looks ever since the battle ended."

Ashe paused for a moment. "You think she wants to, you know."

Sylvain snorted. "Not much choice to be honest with you. She won't date me after the accident with her granny, and you, my cute friend, are off the market. Scarecrow didn't help either."

Ashe let out a nervous chuckle as he glanced around, though the slight flash of panic in his eyes reminded Sylvain of Bernadetta. "I hoped I was being discreet enough."

Sylvain shook his head. "Marianne deserves a nice, loving husband that makes her happy."

Ashe sighed as he flushed a deep red. "I checked with my siblings. The village seems better off now that the war is over."

Sylvain nodded. "I heard the church sacked the village in retaliation for Lonato."

Ashe let out a low, bitter laugh. "That's part of the reason why I was content to fight for the Empire. Edelgard was certainly right about the church."

Sylvain looked at the dead dragon before him. "I can see that. That certainly sounds like you."

Ashe glanced at Sylvain before he focused on the devastation around them. "We should get going. There should always be something we can do for the people here."

Sylvain didn't reply, but he turned from the lifeless dragon before him and began to walk back into the charred city.

* * *

In Enbarr, Dorothea sneezed into her tea.

Gasping in shock and horror, the songstress wiped some of the lukewarm water away from her face as her sinuses came under attack.

"Are you alright my lady?" A maid, at most a decade younger than her, with a horrified look on her face asked, her voice shaking.

Dorothea waved her away, taking a moment to be glad that her tea had cooled, her handkerchief now soaked in lukewarm tea.

She glanced at the open window and the smell of strong perfumes that the ladies of the capital used in abundance.

"I'll get some fresh air in the market, but I'll be back later." Dorothea said quietly. "Take the rest of the morning off if you have nothing left to do."

The maid nervously bowed before Dorothea rose from her seat, turning to the door at the end of the hallway.

* * *

Yurius had made a beeline for the showers when he returned to base. He had hoped to get a good breakfast and a nap in before he had to deal with any other human beings.

The shower was empty, most of the regimented squads having late afternoon showers or showers before they went to bed, while others popped in whenever they felt like it.

Yurius quickly checked the schedule that had been implemented after a man unwittingly walked in on three female mages showering. As his memory stated, he would be in a male timeslot until after what would generally be morning practice. He had time.

He hastily scrubbed his hair and scrubbed in soap that reminded him a little of the few months that he had spent in Enbarr. When he felt satisfied with the shower, he switched to a clean set of clothes before he walked out, opting not to shave the inch of hair that he had.

He stepped out of the showers quickly, making his way through the nearly deserted hallways and opened the door that lead to the mess hall.

And was promptly hit in the face with a slice of fruitcake.

"Oh fuck!" Ryan shouted from somewhere behind the heavy pastry. "You idiot! You hit Yurius!"

Yurius sighed as the ruined cake slipped off his nose and landed on his boots.

"Ahh. Just who I wanted to see." The voice of Spite said from behind him.

Yurius turned to see the neutral face of Spite, the commander of Shambhala, whose eyes narrowed at Yurius's state.

"You have cake in your hair." Spite said quietly, his eyes wary as he glanced at the open door to the mess hall.

"I'm aware of that." Yurius said as he glanced back at the mess hall, now empty, with Ryan and the other prankster having fled in good order.

Spite let a grimace show on his face as he looked around. "I have a mission for you."

Yurius raised an eyebrow, causing a sprinkle of crumbs to fall from his hair.

"I'll explain the details later. Have you seen Mortis?"

Yurius felt alarm rise within his chest. "Aren't we under lockdown? Does this mission have the approval of Thales?"

Spite moved to dust the last crumbs of cake from Yurius's hair. "We are indeed under lockdown. This is true. As for Thales, I have yet to receive his permission to act."

Yurius looked confused. "Lockdown procedure says that any missions outside our area requires the permission of Thales."

Spite shook his head. "We tried to contact him. He's not said anything since giving us the order for the lockdown."

Yurius swallowed. "What would be so bad that required you to defy his lockdown orders?"

Spite frowned. "The food supplies in Shambhala have fallen off significantly. At this rate, we'll have starved to death before Thales gave us the order to act."

Yurius looked down at the cake still on his boots. "Oh, I see. Are you sure Thales hasn't contacted you?"

Spite sighed and nodded, turning his back to Yurius. "I understand I'll be a women's only shower soon, so I won't risk it with you. Come use my personal shower and then we can find Mortis after."

* * *

It was a late morning that saw Hubert and Shamir sitting awkwardly in the imperial palace dining room, with the two eating their breakfasts in silence.

Apart from the sounds of their forks cutting into the food and the slight clinks of cutlery against porcelain plates, and the sneezing fit one particular guard suffered, the room was silent, the guards doing little more than exchanging the occasional nervous glance.

To the surprise of most, it was Hubert who made a motion to dismiss the guards, who, after a glance to each other as well as the silent Shamir, who, for some reason or another, failed to notice Hubert's act.

After a quiet, murderous glare from the Brazen Beast of Enbarr, the three guards quietly shuffled out of the room.

The sound of the door closing seemed to snap Shamir out of her reverie, and she flinched at the sight of the towering Hubert standing over her.

"I wish to apologize for the tavern earlier." Hubert offered to Shamir, who blinked tiredly.

"I spoke with your friend." Shamir offered as she glanced around them, her voice quiet. "He managed to find me when I was alone. Said sorry for what I had seen and that he would deal with it."

"I see." Hubert said quietly. "Did he mention what he planned to do?"

Shamir shook her head as she finished her breakfast, setting down a plate that had been cleared of food. "He said he was annoyed. Something about leaving behind good produce and having to buy a new tavern. He implored me to eat it all."

Hubert stared blankly at Shamir. "I see, he doesn't like wasting food. As for the tavern, his previous one suffered a significant accident, but it was almost certainly arson by someone who knew what they were doing."

Shamir frowned. "Nobody was caught?"

Hubert shook his head. "Shambhala has very skilled soldiers doing their dirty work."

A mask of surprise flashed across Shamir's face. "Shambhala was involved with the burning?"

Hubert nodded. "He was related to the incident with Kronya."

Shamir seemed surprised. "Tell me more."

Hubert nodded. "He provided us a staging ground so that the entire operation could go smoothly."

Shamir frowned. "This being the first tavern?"

Hubert nodded. "It's a long story, but I suppose plans changed during the entire thing."

Shamir leaned closer. "How so?"

A loud thud grabbed their attention, the two of them turning their gaze to the entrance of the dining hall.

The first thing they noticed was the door, no longer attached to its hinges.

It sat neatly on the floor, with six servants and a guard piled on top.

"I liked that door." Shamir said quietly.

"I hate that door. Now we have to spend gold to repair the damn thing." Hubert shot back.

"I liked that door too." Edelgard appeared suddenly from the hall beyond, her looming figure standing over the pile of unlucky servants caught between the door and a towering man in a full suit of plate armour.

Byleth gingerly pulled the guard to his feet, while offering his other hand to the servant who had been directly under the guard, though he sneezed off to the side.

The remaining five servants composed themselves quickly, shuffling out in a single file and slipping into the hallway beyond.

"Hubert, what did I explicitly tell you not to do?" Edelgard asked cheerfully, storming into the room with a murderous expression on her face.

Byleth and Shamir shared a glance as Hubert desperately tried to escape his emperor's wrath.

* * *

By noon, Seteth had packed up all of his belongings in a trunk, content to let the starving family devour most of his pantry.

Flayn stood with her own belongings, parting with a carved wooden toy that she had picked up at a small town over their retreat from Garreg Mach, but clinging to a large stuffed bear, a gift from Byleth, perhaps the only visible memory from their time at the Officer's Academy.

"Are we ready to go?" Flayn asked, just out of earshot from the family that had made use of their safe house.

Seteth nodded, and noting how the father of the family was distracted, began to walk away.

"Where do you think we'll go?" Flayn asked.

"Rhea mentioned once that there was a house close to the Rhondan Coast."

Flayn gasped. "Really?"

"I only saw it once, and even then, there's no way to know if it still stands. Rhea showed it to me a few years before we met Byleth."

Flayn quietly nodded, but paused at the sound of heavy panting behind them.

Both Seteth and Flayn turned back, finding the man from the house standing behind them.

"The house is yours." Seteth offered, as if he was attempting to appease the man before them.

The man glanced back at the house, his face lined with surprise. "Are you certain?"

Seteth nodded. "We needed to move on anyways, and it's good that the house can be put to good use."

The man stared blankly at him, at the house, and back again.

"Thank you, I am forever in your debt."

Seteth shook his head. "Go be with your family. Be good to them."

The man nodded before he turned back to the house, picking his way through the foliage that lined the hidden path.

Seteth and Flayn turned away from the house they had lived in for what must have been a few months and began their long walk to civilization.

* * *

Despite being the nominal overlord of Shambhala, Spite's personal shower was very much like the white tile that made up the main showers, albeit well cleaned compared to the thin layer of soap scum that built up in the communal showers.

There was a single cake of soap present, though it appeared sparsely used. With a sigh, Yurius scrubbed the bar into his hair, noting that the bar had the smell a local herb, likely bought by Spite himself on a previous trip to one of the many small, isolated villages that surrounded the mountains.

He emerged from the showers feeling cleaner, and noticed Spite sitting behind his desk, his nose buried in a report, twin stacks of them flanking each side of his face. With his bright orange hair, Spite looked like a leafless carrot sprouting from his desk.

"Ahh. I trust you enjoyed the shower?" Spite asked, looking up from the brown report and ruining the image of the carrot, his pale skin a strong contrast to the sharp cut of orange hair.

"I did, thank you." Yurius said with a nod. "So is there any reason you need two of us out in the field?"

Spite shrugged. "The silence we have received from Thales is simply unnatural and out of character for him. As for where you should start, Garreg Mach is where I would recommend you begin with. It's where he was when the order to fire on Arianrhod was sent"

Yurius raised an eyebrow. "Investigation? Do you believe Thales is in danger or otherwise incapacitated?"

Spite nodded. "Thales was involved in the power struggle of the late emperor Ionius. The other co-conspirators of that plot have been put to the sword one way or another. If Thales was ambushed suddenly, especially by that blasted Byleth, it's possible that nobody has been able to make contact with him for further orders."

"Would that explain the silence for the last few weeks? If he was snatched, surely a message of some sort would have come in." Yurius reasoned, his mind trying to remember their orders since the attack on Arianrhod.

Spite shook his head as he rose from his seat, tossing the file aside. "I really could not tell you. Any number of things could have happened. He might have suffered a heart attack for all we know. He is a old man after all."

"So why Mortis? Apart from the fact that you paired us last time?"

Spite shook his head. "In the event you must make your way to Enbarr, the two of you would be our best agents for the job, for you know the city well, not to mention a few members of the Empire's command cadre. Mortis mentioned in her report that you made contact with Crown Princess Edelgard von Hresvelg as well as her close confidant Hubert von Vestra."

"No. I spent most of my time in Enbarr away from the others. Mortis made most of the contact with the other two."

Spite raised an eyebrow. "The fact that much of this was not mentioned in the report is concerning."

Yurius nodded. "I guess I should apologize for that. I met von Vestra briefly, but not the Crown Princess."

"No." Spite replied, his voice soothing. "There is no need to apologize. What's done is done. There is another reason I asked you for this mission, however, namely in that I was hoping at least one of you managed to gain some contacts while on your last assignment."

Yurius paused. "Yes, I have a particular source in mind that would probably help us."

Spite nodded as he put on his coat. "Very good, but I suppose I must relay this mission to Mortis."

Yurius turned and walked to the door as Spite shrugged on his jacket.

"Walk with me." Spite said as he pulled the door open and stepped out to the wider base.

* * *

"Pardon me miss."

The voice snapped Dorothea out of her train of thought as she stood browsing the stalls.

It was a fairly quiet day in the capital, and despite the fact that the market was well shaded, it was a day of poor sales.

"Are you buying anything?" The voice asked again.

Dorothea turned her head to the man who spoke, who stood tall over her. He reminded her of a slightly friendlier Hubert, with his tone soft compared to Hubert's harsh and threatening, though he also vaguely resembled Hanneman from his age and slight slump in posture.

"Oh, I'm done here." Dorothea said calmly.

The man nodded before he turned to the stall owner. "The usual."

The stall owner nodded and hastily began to drop his merchandise into a large burlap sack. "Of course! Fresh produce from Brigid."

The man scoffed. "No need to lie to me. See to it that one third of it goes to the Sisters of the Saints, as usual."

The stall owner nodded and gestured to two other men, who joined him in dumping produce to the sacks, all three of them wearing large smiles.

"You are a benefactor of the Sisters?" Dorothea asked the well dressed man.

The man shrugged. "I would not call myself a benefactor. We share a relationship of mutual interest. I provide some of their needs, and they help me set the chaff from the grain."

Dorothea stared at him. "The sisters mill grain?"

The man chuckled. "No, a simple metaphor. I admire their kindness in raising Enbarr's orphans well."

Dorothea glanced down at the bag of sweets she held. "I was going to give these candies to the children today."

The man looked at the seller of sweets a stall down. "Then perhaps I will match your offer. The children shall get two sweets instead of one today."

"How are you going to pay for it all?" Dorothea asked the man as the sweets seller scrambled around his stand.

From the folds of his coat, the man pulled out a cloth sack, tied half heartedly with a brown rope. He let it fall on the nearest stand, that of the sweets seller, and Dorothea could hear the sound of the coins inside against the wood.

Likely curious, the man opened the sack and gasped at the contents. He gingerly pulled a single coin of a very high denomination out of the bag, his fingers toying with the coin, as if suspecting a trick. Sensing none, the man put the coin into the folds of his clothes.

"Keep the change." The man buying ordered. "I have plenty more where that came from."

The man hastily bowed his head in thanks as the wealthy man slid the heavy bag into the folds of his cloak as the man filled his bag with sweets.

"Shall we go to the Sisters?" The man asked Dorothea as the load of vegetables were tossed into the back of two horse carts, the heavier of which lumbered away from the market to destinations unknown.

Dorothea nodded as she turned around, walking side by side with the stranger, avoiding the summer heat by walking in the shade.

"How do you have so much money to give?" Dorothea asked suddenly.

The man shrugged. "Some things are more valuable than the gold it takes to buy them."

Dorothea raised an eyebrow. "I'm not interested in you."

The man chuckled in response. "Miss Arnault, please, I have no interest in you or your hand in marriage. Merely I have heard word of you."

Dorothea nodded as they approached the disused cathedral that served as the last reminder that the Church had ever existed within the empire.

It was an old building, constructed of solid grey stone and long dried red clay, certainly not as old or as storied as Garreg Mach, but impressive all the same.

Slowly, the man next to her stepped into the blazing heat that was the unshaded street, but she was better prepared, waiting for a large cloud to block out the sun before she followed him.

"I expect the sisters may require more governmental assistance in the near future than what the ministry currently provides."

"Indeed." Dorothea said as they entered the wide courtyard before the main cathedral, blinking as the blazing sun returned. "There have been many orphans in this war."

The man shook his head. "Not just orphans. Some parents may have sent their children to a safe place when the conflict broke out. With practically every other city on the continent shattered by war, I can't imagine many could stay in such places."

"And so they end up here." Dorothea said grimly as the sun was swallowed by a particularly dark cloud, which was followed by many more.

"It looks to rain soon." The man said calmly. "Let us hurry."

Dorothea nodded as she picked up her pace, reaching the heavy wooden doors as the first drops of rain began to land.

* * *

They found Mortis on a crosswalk on the upper levels of Shambhala, her attention drawn to the sight of a sparring match below.

"Mortis." Spite called out in a voice that was just loud enough for the woman to hear.

Losing interest in the fight, the woman rose from the safety railings, brushing away a strand of dark hair in the process, but apart from giving her attention, Mortis failed to make a sound.

At a brisk pace, the two of them walked up to Mortis, with Yurius raising a hand in greeting.

"Our newest recruit has very poor knowledge of how to handle a spear. Very open, a showman, not a professional soldier. He's also not aiming for vital points, probably has never killed."

Yurius glanced down at Ryan on the training grounds, his posture weak and his grip unsteady.

"Give him time. Even Kronya didn't learn to use Athame overnight."

"His stamina and posture, not to mention situational awareness are all significant weak spots. He'll be useless in a formation unless he gets his act together. I can barely watch him without feeling rage at his incompetence"

A cry from the training grounds below signalled the end of the spar, and Yurius and Spite both looked down and found the exhausted form of Ryan sprawled on the mat, having been pushed to his limit.

"How long have they been at it?" Spite asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Little more than twenty minutes, maybe a third of which was actual fighting. He's a basket case."

"Damn." Yurius said with a shake of his head. "I certainly hope we weren't so bad when we were his age."

Spite chuckled at that. "Yurius, you lasted merely a half hour on your first training attempt. Mortis went thirty three minutes of action before she was knocked out cold."

"You remember these things?" Yurius asked, his voice not quite hiding his shock.

"But of course. I was your trainer that day and I carried Mortis to the sick bay."

Mortis raised an eyebrow as the trainer that had just floored Ryan joined them. "Oh, Spite, the kid is a pretty sad basket case. The previous recruits could at least put up a good fight. He just swung himself out doing nothing. All he did was waste energy needlessly and give me an obvious spot to hit."

Spite shook his head. "I'll have him schooled when the time comes. In the meanwhile, get yourself a shower, my good man."

The man nodded as he jogged away, leaving the three of them alone.

"And Mortis?" Spite asked the woman made a move to leave.

The woman paused and turned back. "Yes?"

"I am assigning you to an assignment to Garreg Mach. You will go with Yurius. He will fill you in on the details of the mission."

Mortis raised an eyebrow at Yurius. "Very well then, when shall we leave?"

Yurius glanced at Spite, who nodded. "It is late in the afternoon, and travel at night is very much ill advised. Thus, you will leave early tomorrow morning. Be ready to be on the road. Go eat your evening meal and get some rest. You have much travel ahead of you."

* * *

The inside of the cathedral took Dorothea's breath away every time she stepped foot within the building, and despite the lack of sun, the windows remained somehow magnificent despite the passage of centuries.

The building had long since lost any semblance of worshippers, as those who preferred to keep breathing tended to avoid it after the failed coup that had been crushed over a century prior.

But the building retained use. There was no shortage of orphans in the empire, and the sisters had been one of the few religious orders to not have been slaughtered when the rebellion had been put to the sword.

And despite the presence of dozens, perhaps hundreds of sleeping children, lined up neatly in the beds, the church remained quiet.

Then, from three rows away, a woman in a sister's habit emerged, her face stunned at the sight of rare visitors.

The sister did compose herself quickly however, her open mouth closing as another sister stepped out from another row of beds, her expression stony.

"Sister Radek, what are you doing?" The second sister hissed at the first. "Watching the children does not mean stand at one place."

The first sister's head turned between what Dorothea assumed was her travelling companion and the other sister.

Then the second sister noticed their presence and her eyes went wide.

Dorothea watched as the man raised his hand, the large, bulging bag of sweets hanging off of his wrist.

"Hard candies, for the children." He half whispered.

The sister put a hand to her chest as her face broke into relief. "The usual as well, Sir Hawthorne?"

The man nodded, and the sister closed her eyes, her lips moving in a silent prayer.

"Is there a place we can sit?"

The first sister perked up at the question. "I apologize, but your employee is not on site today, but her desk should be available anyhow."

The man nodded, his eyes wandering further down the church. "That's fine then, I'll just leave the sweets on her desk."

The sisters glanced at each other before the second one nodded. "Better that before the little ones see it."

The man nodded as he walked forward, gesturing for Dorothea to follow.

Seeing that the two sisters had returned to their patrol route, Dorothea followed the man towards the back of the church, exchanging silent nods and smiles with sisters as she walked to the back.

She was surprised when the man opened a door without even bothering to knock.

"Should I add my pile of candies to the children as well?" Dorothea asked as the door shut behind her.

The man, three long paces ahead of her, paused and nodded. "That would be very generous of you. Still, there is no way what we bought today will feed all the children here.

Dorothea nodded. "Despite being here once or twice before the professor returned, it's not a place I expected to be so full."

The man nodded. "Most of the children sleeping out in the church should be from Arianrhod. The city was destroyed first and it's quite closer to Enbarr compared to the capital. Given enough time, we might expect to see even more children."

Dorothea nodded grimly. "Yes, that is certainly an issue."

"There are many issues that need to be discussed, but all in due time."

* * *

Dorothea had eaten a stunningly delicious dinner along with her newfound companion and walked back home alone, her pace leisurely as she wandered quiet, yet clean streets.

When she noticed the cobblestones below her feet turned from the standard formation that constituted streets in Enbarr and into a circular formation, she was surprised to find the same fountain she had once bathed in so many years prior. To her surprise, a girl, judging from the ragged dress that clung from her frame, stood in the fountain, with a boy standing just out of it, expensive breeches and shoes on, his face hesitant.

"Spencer, dinner is ready." A voice said from behind Dorothea.

Dorothea spun around to the voice, stunned that some stranger could have seemingly appeared out of thin air.

The speaker was a woman with hair the colour of rich crimson, dressed in a long, flowing dress, her arms crossed around her midsection.

The girl turned toward the woman and giggled as she leapt out of the fountain, showering the stunned boy with water as she ran towards the red headed woman.

Dorothea chuckled. She could imagine the look on Ferdinand's face if he had been splashed by water.

Shaking her head, she glanced at the woman again, only to find red eyes staring back at her.

"Was something funny?" The woman asked, her tone curious but not necessarily hostile.

Dorothea blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry, that poor boy reminded me of someone I knew."

The woman turned back to the spluttering boy, who wiped his soaked face on his shirt.

"It's a lovely fountain." The woman said as the little girl dried herself off in her mother's skirts.

"I used to bathe in it." Dorothea admitted with a slight shake of the head.

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Well, I didn't expect you to say that, but I suppose it would make a decent makeshift bath."

"My lady! Your presence is required!" A voice shouted from beyond them.

Dorothea and the second stranger she had met that day both turned around.

"Dire news! Your presence is required!" A second voice shouted as a messenger ran at their position, panting heavily as he caught his breath.

"Do you know either of these people?" Dorothea asked the woman.

The woman shook her head. "Strangers to me."

"Sir Hawthorne requests your presence." The second messenger managed to gasp out.

"Ahh, he's mine then. Pardon us." The woman said as she turned on her heel.

Dorothea turned to the first man as the other woman began to walk away.

"The emperor has requested your presence." The man said quickly, brandishing a paper with the royal seal.

"Would you to walk with us for a short distance?" The red haired woman asked as Dorothea looked at the paper.

The messenger shook his head frantically. "No, the emperor has demanded your presence. Now."

Dorothea shook her head. "As long as we are headed the same way, we should walk together."

"What a splendid idea!" The red haired woman said as she began to walk.

* * *

It was rare for anyone to still be in Fhirdiad after nightfall, considering the city had yet to be rebuilt.

And yet, the two visitors who had made their way though the south gates of the city were expected.

"Sorry for being late."Ferdinand said in greeting as he reached Ashe and Ingrid, both of whom nodded in reply.

"I trust your trip went well?" Ashe asked in reply, moving to help Caspar with an item he had dropped.

"We got caught up with a convoy. Big wagon got stuck in mud. Took us far too long to free." Caspar said, stretching his muscles as he descended from his horse.

Ingrid nodded. "Sylvain and Felix are in our camp on the Tailtean Plains. Most of the surviving civilians are there as well."

Ferdinand glanced at the dark city beyond them, illuminated by the moonlight. "It'll take some time before we can hope to rebuild the city. Lumber and stone will have to be harvested in due time."

Ingrid nodded as she looked back at the town, the unspoken question in the air deafening. "Let's go meet the others at camp."

The three men nodded as the four of them turned to the distant fires of the Tailtean Plains.

"Who else is in Garreg Mach?" Ashe asked out of the blue.

"Marianne." Ferdinand, Caspar, and Ingrid said as one.

Even in the dark, it was obvious that Ashe had flushed a bright crimson.

"She's helping Annette and Mercedes with the supplies." Ferdinand said. "With luck, the remaining imperial war supplies and whatever supplies that were left from the Alliance should be enough to feed the citizens of Faerghus, at least until the next farming cycle can begin."

"A number of kingdom soldiers mentioned they refused to burn a series of storehouses in one of the city's corners. If that's true, then we would need to bring them out to camp." Ingrid said.

"Still, we have no idea if it's true or not. Many roads have been blocked off with broken buildings and the like." Ashe, still somewhat pink, added. "However, if the supply line to Garreg Mach was cut, we would lose any chance of feeding the people, and even the contents of this warehouse might not last long enough for the supply line to be reestablished."

Ingrid nodded. "We all have been doing rides out to neighbouring villages, hoping that they have food to spare. It's mostly been a fool's errand."

Ferdinand nodded. "Faerghus has always been rather short on food from what I recall."

"Most of the land is not suited for farming, and Tailtean Plain is arguably the most important plot of farmland." Ingrid said.

All four of them turned at the plains before them, with dozens of fires burning, illuminating the distant faces of Fhirdiad's former citizenry.

"And we've been forced to use it as a refugee camp." Ashe said grimly.

"Welcome to Fhirdiad." Ingrid said solemnly.

* * *

**AN:** More corrections, a minor retcon, and other fun bits.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Herald of Change.

* * *

One week prior.

The imperial war council room in the palace was seldom used, yet always meticulously cleaned.

Dorothea glanced at the sleeping form of Bernadetta von Varley, neatly sunk in her chair.

She moved to touch the girl, but a light cough interrupted her.

She turned to the only other individual in the room, the ever vigilant Shamir.

"Let her sleep. We don't know what is holding up Edelgard and the others, or for how long."

Dorothea nodded and sank back into her seat, taking a small sip of tea in the process.

Shamir took a small sip of hers.

Dorothea glanced at the untouched slice of cake she had brought for her friend, focusing quietly on the candied cherry on top.

The door to the room flew open and Dorothea almost leapt out of her chair.

"Sorry for being late. Byleth fell into a river." Edelgard said from the entrance of the room, her tone rushed as she hurried to the nearest chair.

Dorothea raised an eyebrow as she turned to face Edelgard. "How did that happen?"

Edelgard shook her head. "He slipped on a wet patch of grass in the dark. Then his jacket ended up soaked and he couldn't climb out."

"And I had to fish him out." Hubert said grimly as he walked in, having hastily changed into a pair of Byleth's pants.

Dorothea winced. "Are you alright Hubie?"

Hubert shook his head. "Byleth may catch a cold, but yes, I'm fine. Shall we get on with the meeting?"

Edelgard nodded as she sat down at the head of the table, noting the sleeping form of Bernadetta. "We did come rather late."

"A letter came in from Linhart this morning. It's dated from two weeks prior, but it should still be relevant." Shamir offered

"What did it say?"

"I haven't read it yet."

Hubert raised an eyebrow as her walked close to Bernadetta, towering over the small girl, leaning over her chair as he looked at Shamir.

A sneeze at the door turned heads as Byleth walked into the room, his hair vaguely resembling a blue mop.

"You shouldn't be here." Edelgard said sternly.

Byleth shook his head. "I need to be here."

Then he sneezed again.

The second sneeze woke Bernadetta, who snapped to attention, hopping to attention in what appeared to be panic.

She leapt up stunningly quickly, and smashed headfirst into Hubert's chin.

Dorothea could not suppress a laugh as Hubert's head snapped back, his face consisting of shock, pain, confusion, and probably outright exasperation. It was certainly not a good day to be Hubert.

Bernadetta rubbed her head gingerly as she stood up, blinking as if she forgot where she was.

"Ohh! Cake!"

Edelgard sighed as Bernadetta ate the first forkful, happily chewing on it.

Then Bernadetta looked around and noticed Dorothea, Edelgard and Byleth, all of them who stared back at her.

"Why do I feel an ominous evil in the air?" Bernadetta asked out loud.

Dorothea glanced at Hubert, rubbing his jaw, his face deep set.

"Bernadetta." Hubert said in a low, serious voice.

Bernadetta looked up, her face content and cheerful, cake still in hand. "Were you trying to surprise me?"

Hubert clenched his teeth. "No."

Bernadetta frowned. "Um, erm, would you like some cake?"

"No."

Edelgard stifled a laugh, and Dorothea could have sworn Byleth was doing his very best to not erupt into laughter as well.

Bernadetta finished her final bite of cake and settled happily into her chair. "So? When's the meeting?"

Shamir sighed. "Right, I suppose I'll read Linhardt's letter now."

Hubert, despite still rubbing his jaw, sat next to Bernadetta, his features serious.

Shamir flipped open the letter, calmly cutting through the wax seal with a pen knife.

"Wait." Hubert snarled.

Shamir paused as the man rose from his seat. "Linhardt does not use seals when delivering letters. He's too lazy."

Dorothea glanced around the room as Shamir put the letter down, her eyes glaring at the seal on the letter.

"Well, he's right about Linhardt being lazy." Edelgard observed quietly. "Let me see the letter."

Shamir slid the letter across the table, and Dorothea passed it to Edelgard.

"Indeed. This isn't Linhardt. The seal is similar to the seal of House Hevring, but it's a forgery."

Byleth was next, his eyes like a hawk as he looked at the letter. "No doubt this is a fake. It is a good forgery though." He declared after, tossing the envelope back to Edelgard before sneezing.

Dorothea looked nervous. "Should we be concerned?"

Edelgard sighed as she broke the false seal, her eyes following line after line of text. "Whoever this sender is asked for future goods to be sent over the Bridge of Myrddin. Something about the main road being clogged."

Dorothea raised an eyebrow. "Do we have anyone there?"

Edelgard nodded. "Lorenz and Leonie should both be stationed at the crossing. Fairly small garrison of imperial forces. A few elite cavalry units, but mostly light infantry. If whoever this letter came from intended to trick us into sending supplies into a poorly guarded route, and intercepted the convoy anywhere on the trip, we would have very little to stop them."

"What concerns me more than this is that our enemies, whoever they may be, are bold enough to use false imperial authority to try to divert valuable resources."

The room sat silently until Shamir spoke up. "In the near future, we should not rely on messages that aren't delivered by hand by trusted confidants."

"Until when?" Dorothea asked.

"Shamir, ride to Fort Merceus." Edelgard ordered, her voice tight. "Tell Emile that in four weeks time, I will be in Garreg Mach, meeting with the quartet we have in the north about the state of affairs there. We will discuss this additional matter then."

Shamir nodded. "Should I go now?"

Edelgard shook her head. "It's late and we are all tired. Get some sleep before you head out. Until that meeting, Shamir's suggestion makes sense."

Shamir nodded as she rose to her feet. "Will that be all? I'll return back to Enbarr once the message is delivered, but if there's anything else, I'd appreciate knowing about it now."

Edelgard shook her head. "Just one more thing. In the event that I want to send a message, I will use a personal code."

Hubert turned his head. "Perhaps Ionius? Your father?"

Edelgard shook her head. "Any messenger of the empire would know of my father, no matter where their allegiance lies, and that he passed away in his sleep some time ago. The name I want to use is Adrasteia."

Hubert flinched at the name. "You are certain?"

Edelgard shook her head. "Hubert, it's just a name, and nobody in the empire would know what the name means. Frankly, even I don't even know what Adrasteia looks like."

Dorothea raised an eyebrow. "Who is this Adrasteia anyways?"

"Do. Not. Mention. That. Name." Hubert hissed, his rage growing with every word.

"Hubert. That's enough. They have a right to know." Edelgard snapped.

Hubert's face was still lined with rage, but he nodded anyhow. "I will not honour him by speaking his name, but he was a member of those who sliter in the dark."

"Was?" Bernadetta asked, her voice curious.

"He was a miserable runt even by their standards."

"When Thales was experimenting on me, I heard his name mentioned." Edelgard said calmly, though Dorothea could still hear the anger in her voice. "He was complaining over how he didn't want the job of burying dead bodies. Only after did I discover that the bodies in question were those of my siblings."

Hubert snarled from behind Bernadetta, who sat uncomfortably in her seat, no longer tired.

"So, erm, if we were to get a message from you, the messenger would have to specifically mention this Adrasteia?"

Hubert hissed as he stood over Bernadetta's chair. "Yes Bernadetta, that is correct."

Bernadetta looked up and squeaked. "The face of death! Save me Linhardt! Bernie is too young to die!"

Hubert looked like he was about to explode.

Byleth got in between the two before Hubert could make Bernadetta's worst fears come true. "That should be fine. Bernadetta, could you go ride to the Great Bridge of Myrddin? I want Leonie and Lorenz at Garreg Mach for the meeting, and I would like to know if they saw anything out of the ordinary."

Bernadetta perked up at the order, forgetting all about the murderous look on Hubert's face. "Of course!"

Byleth nodded. "Good, get some sleep. The ride there should only be slightly longer than the one to Fort Merceus."

Bernadetta beamed brightly as she hopped up, barely missing Hubert this time, and ran out of the room.

"Hubert, that's not exactly how you should treat Bernadetta. It wasn't her fault that you got in the way of Caspar and Linhardt."

Hubert now looked like he wanted to strangle Byleth, but he finally nodded. "Alright, I understand. Forgive me for what I did there. That was unprofessional."

Byleth and Edelgard shared a glance. "In the meanwhile until we move out for Garreg Mach, I'd like you to monitor all mail coming into the royal palace, and in particular, anything directed to Edelgard."

Hubert nodded. "As you wish, Professor."

* * *

Present Day

"Adrasteia." Dorothea said softly, loudly enough for the messenger and her three companions to hear, but not loud enough for the rest of the street.

The guard did nothing, staring at her blankly.

Dorothea felt a feeling of disappointment rising in her. So indeed, the man was lying about Edelgard requiring her presence.

Perhaps seeing the look in her eyes, the false messenger seemed to realize his cover had been blown, and in a moment, a large knife slipped out of his sleeve.

The sight of the blade was enough for Dorothea to act, and she threw a burst of electric power at the man, the blast killing him instantly.

"Take her and go." The red haired woman's voice came through.

Dorothea turned as the other messenger hastily grabbed the child and began to run, hastily leaving the scene as the two women stood alone, a still twitching corpse at their feet.

A shout on a distant street caught her attention as two city guards ran toward the commotion, their weapons drawn.

From behind, one of them fell to the ground, a clean arrow shaft elongating from his back like a single wing, and the man fell to the ground, unmoving.

The second guard seemed to notice his partner fall to the ground, and assumed a defensive position, raising his shield and slipping to one knee.

A second later, he too, fell dead, his throat opened like a second mouth.

A spike of fear found Dorothea even as she backed herself away from the figures emerging from the darkness.

Three figures, each one dressed in a heavy cloak, descended on her position. One wielded a large, crude sword, a second a vicious spear, and the third a bow she had no doubt was aimed at her belly.

It was a logical target. Her dress was not armoured plate, and her midsection would not be protected by her ribs.

She glanced around the street, hoping for a way to escape the situation, but found nothing.

The street was empty now, apart from the cowering boy that had yet to leave the fountain and the woman next to her. Even if she could reach him, he was too short to be used as a human shield anyhow.

The trio of hostile attackers, having nothing but a trio of corpses in between them and her, now fanned out, their faces sporting cruel grins.

And then the archer went up in flames.

The man did not seem to notice for a split second, but began to dance as the flames hungrily devoured his entire form, the man's bow reduced to charred wood.

The other two men seemed stunned that they were fighting two mages instead of one, and they seemed to freeze in place, as if unsure of what to do.

And then Dorothea called into the heavens and brought a bolt of electricity into the blade wielding attacker, watching as the man spasm as he died.

The sole remaining attacker now realized he was no longer in a position where he could attack, and turned to flee, his spear clattering to the ground.

It seemed like he had melted from the shadows, but the hidden frame of Sir Hawthorne stepped out of an alleyway just as the cowardly attacker had attempted to enter it.

The fleeing spearman seemed stunned that he was being blocked, but found the sword twisted in his stomach of much greater concern as the older gentleman plunged the blade deep into the retreating ambusher.

Dorothea looked away as the man tore his blade free from his victim, the dying man clawing feebly at his killer as the older man turned toward Dorothea and began a leisurely walk.

"Miss Dorothea. I was not expecting to meet you again so soon after our last encounter." Sir Hawthorne offered quietly as he approached, shaking some blood off his saber.

"There shouldn't be any more of them." The crimson haired woman reported as she looked around. "These four seemed like the whole attack party."

The wealthy gentleman nodded. "We should leave this area for the time being. A police investigation would put you under a great deal of stress, and Adrasteia would certainly be displeased."

Dorothea flinched. "You know about that?"

The man shrugged. "I have my sources."

Dorothea frowned. "You know Byleth?"

The man laughed. "No, I'm a casual acquaintance with Hubert, although I confess our relationship can be frosty at times."

Dorothea glanced at the pool of blood that surrounded the last victim, still widening slowly onto the cobbles. "We should go. We do not want to be here when the town guard arrives."

The man nodded. "Very well then, we can talk later. Follow me."

Dorothea glanced at the red headed woman next to him and began to walk at a hurried pace, following the man into the darkness of Enbarr's alleyways.

* * *

It was shortly before daybreak that Yurius staggered out of his bed, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He had slept fitfully over the previous night.

He dressed quickly, glancing at the three bunks that held his roommates before he headed out into the silent base.

The underground city was dark and his footsteps echoed on the hard ground below, though dim lighting did exist in the form of tiny lamps that lined the halls of the base.

Three twists in the dark later, he found himself standing before Spite's office.

He glanced around before he gently rapped on the door.

There was no reply.

Yurius glanced at the doorknob and gently turned it.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the door remained in place, the lock refusing to budge.

Yurius sighed as he turned away from the door, falling silent as he heard steady footsteps in the hallway to his right.

A moment later, the overlord of Shambhala stood before him, his pale skin ghastly in comparison to the dark hallway.

"Can't sleep?" Spite asked as he slid in a small key into the lock, the well oiled door swinging open without even the slightest creak.

Yurius nodded. "What are you doing here?"

"Odd question, considering these are my personal quarters."

Yurius winced and turned his gaze away. "Sorry, that came out wrong."

"No offense taken." Spite replied as he turned to his desk, opening a drawer.

"What are you looking for?" Yurius asked.

"Matches." Spite replied, tossing a packet of the tiny sticks onto the table before sliding the open drawer shut.

"What for?"

"Candle." Spite replied as he locked the door to his office once more.

Yurius watched in silence as Spite turned his heel.

"Follow me if you want to talk." The overlord of Shambhala quietly.

"Where are we going?" Yurius asked.

Spite did not reply, his stride long and quick.

Yurius hurried to follow the older man, making considerably more noise on the catwalk than the man he was following.

"Be careful." Spite warned as he turned to his left.

"Why?"

"This flight of stairs is poorly maintained compared to much of the base."

Yurius glanced down at the stairs Spite mentioned. "Where does it lead?"

"A memorial." Spite replied calmly.

"Oh. I've never been past your office, now that I think about it."

"Well, most people don't feel comfortable in the command wing of Shambhala, so your lack of experience in the area is perfectly understandable."

Yurius nodded as he stepped down on the staircase, wincing as the metal under his boots groaned.

"Keep to the left side." Spite said from three steps below.

"Sorry." Yurius muttered.

Spite shrugged. "It's quite alright. There aren't any barracks in this quarter of Shambhala."

"Why is that?" Yurius asked as he gingerly took another step down the flight of stairs.

"You'll understand in due time." Spite said with a mild chuckle.

Yurius nodded and continued his walk, frowning as the sprodratic lights that illuminated the staircase became less and less frequent.

"We are here." Spite said as they touched solid ground once more.

"And where is here?" Yurius asked as he stared at the grim, unpainted hallway.

"From what I can glean from the archives of Shambhala, this was originally an emergency exit that lead out into the mountains."

Yurius raised an eyebrow as Spite turned deeper into the tunnel. "And where would they lead to from there?"

"An old mountain path. It's still there of course, but there is a memorial along the way."

"Is the path still functional?"

"Barely. I first traversed down it as a young man, but I've rarely had the time to go down all the way."

"When was the last time you went down it?"

"For the whole way down, it was last fall. I wanted some quiet time to myself."

Yurius nodded. "And where is this memorial along the path?"

"A short walk once you get outside. Even at night, you can't miss it."

Yurius nodded as they reached a dull, unpainted door. "This the place we head out?"

Spite nodded as he pushed on the door, the surprisingly well oiled hinges giving way to the night sky.

Yurius took a deep breath of the summer air as he stepped out. It was a lush meadow with a rough, lightly used path hugging a rocky outcropping.

Spite was walking faster now, his arms gently clasped behind his back.

Then, rising above the field, Yurius saw the memorial in question.

It was an obelisk of smooth, black glass, towering over the surrounding landscape.

"It's beautiful." Yurius admitted.

"It looks much better in sunlight. But yes, it's beautiful."

"How big is it?"

"About four metres in height." Spite replied as the path turned toward the large obelisk.

Even from a distance, Yurius could tell that the structure definitely measured up to what Spite had claimed.

"Wait, how did you get that thing there? Did Old Agartha put that there?"

Spite shook his head. "I'm afraid not. From our records, the obelisk was the remains of a mage who served with Old Agartha during the war."

"He was killed here?"

"Yes and no." Spite replied as he fiddled with the matches in his hands. "He survived the war, but he could not bear being the only survivor from his unit."

"He killed himself?"

"Yes." Spite replied. "It is said that he began to have dreams of the comrades he had lost during the war. In his final days, he was a babbling mess, calling out for those comrades he had once fought with."

"So how did he end up out here?"

"A survivor of his unit carried him out here in an effort to calm him down, but that proved futile. He turned back to Shambhala when the mage asked to be alone. When they checked on him a few hours later, they only found the obelisk in his place."

"Did the other member of his unit make it out alright?"

Spite nodded. "He was the one who suggested to use the stone as a marker for those who lost their lives in service to Agartha, both on and off the battlefield."

Yurius nodded. "So what are the matches used for?"

Spite sighed as he arrived at the stone. "It is a tradition to burn out a candle against the stone to honour the life of a friend or family member."

Yurius remained quiet. "Just who are we talking about?"

"Today, six years ago, was when Spite last spoke with Kronya." Mortis said.

"Mortis! Where the hell did you come from?" Yurius spluttered, backing a step away.

"I was checking out the mountain path we are set to use in the morning. I came back because I figured Spite had arrived with the matches. Why are you here?"

"I had a hard time sleeping, that's all." Yurius said.

Spite nodded. "I know the feeling. Both now and when I was your age."

"Should we bring our gear with us once we enter the field?" Yurius asked.

"To do so would bring too much attention. Two heavily armoured soldiers would bring a great deal of attention to you." Spite replied with a shake of his head. "Attention that, of course, you don't want."

Yurius glanced around. "Should we just travel like this?"

Spite shook his head and pointed to what Yurius had initially believed to be a rock. Upon further examination, it was a large wooden trunk.

"What's in it?"

"Clothes for you and Mortis. A radio in the event that you find something important. A considerable amount of money, mainly torn from the coffers of House Ordelia."

"How did you get your hands on the property of House Ordelia?" Yurius asked.

"Long story. About a quarter of the coins originate from either kingdom or imperial vaults. Nothing too major, but I know both of you are resourceful enough to do well in the field."

Mortis nodded as she struck a match, gently lighting a candle.

"Mortis, that's Spite's candle. Why are you lighting a candle now?"

The woman glared at him before turning the match over to Spite.

"It's fine. She has something she needs to commemorate as well." Spite said as he lit a second candle, blowing out the match as he set the candle down.

Yurius grimaced. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

Spite shrugged as he turned to the trunk. "I left something in here that I think you'll find useful."

"Really?" Yurius asked, curious of the possibility of a gift from Spite.

"Ahh, here we are." Spite said, a longsword in his hands. "Do be careful with it. I just had it sharpened."

Yurius glanced at the sheathed blade in the hands of his overseer, gently taking the sword.

It was a fairly light blade, as far as swords went, coming in a long, neat, straight blade.

Yurius swung the blade quietly, feeling the master crafted blade cut through the air.

"Thank you Spite. I'll take good care of it."

Spite nodded. "You do that."

Yurius blinked as a flash of light caught his eye.

"Oh. The sun is up." Mortis murmured as she rose to her feet.

"It's a beautiful sight, as always." Spite said as he turned to the sun rising over the horizon. "I must return to Shambhala. Feel free to leave whenever."

* * *

Byleth found it annoying that his personal body pillow wasn't present when he woke up.

With an annoyed sigh, Byleth rose from the bed he shared with Edelgard, patting the large teddy bear still left on the bed on the head.

He dressed quickly, figuring his favourite body pillow was painting him.

"Should I visit Edelgard in her little painting room?" Byleth asked the empty walls of the bedroom.

Perhaps predictably, the walls did not answer.

Byleth sighed as he decided to be nice to Edelgard.

He rose and dressed quickly, wondering what the palace kitchens had prepared as he slipped open the royal bedroom doors.

"Good morning." He greeted the guard who guarded Edelgard's drawing room, who blushed and nodded hastily in response.

The dining room had a fresh set of pastries and iced tea, and Byleth smiled before he frowned.

"I certainly hope she doesn't fall asleep again in that room. It would ruin a surprise breakfast."

* * *

Lysithea was alone in the dining hall of Garreg Mach, murdering a slice of chocolate cake.

It was a lovely day and there was delicious food, which she was thankful for.

And then she began to sneeze.

It was a cute sneeze, or so Mercedes said, but the fact that she kept sneezing after told her it would be a very bad day.

* * *

The balancing act of carrying a platter of food on both hands and a jug of iced tea on his head raised numerous eyebrows as the imperial palace seemed to freeze in place of the sight of the royal consort both make a fool of himself and make every woman in the palace jealous that their husbands could not use their heads to carry food.

The guard at the door had almost fallen over, barely stifling her laughter as she locked eyes with Byleth, remaining coherent long enough to open the door before she fled the scene.

Edelgard was deep in thought, carefully finishing a stroke on the painted Byleth's shoulder.

"I said to not disturb me." Edelgard said halfheartedly, her voice filled with annoyance.

Byleth stood in silence, waiting simply for Edelgard to turn around.

Perhaps angered, Edelgard spun around and glared at him, her face turning pale as she realized that he wasn't the guard.

"Oh no." Edelgard whispered, her face sporting a stunned expression as she stepped back protectively, as if Byleth seeing the painting would cause her doom.

Byleth set the two platters of food down before he moved toward Edelgard, retrieving the jug of iced tea from his head as he did so, a warm grin forming on his face as the Emperor of the Adrestian Empire seemed to shrink into her chair.

"I brought breakfast." Byleth said quietly. "I hope you are hungry?"

Edelgard looked as if she might collapse. "I, erm, the painting."

"Is it as lovely as I am?" Byleth asked teasingly as he brought himself closer.

Edelgard let out a squeak and frantically shook her head.

"That was very cute of you, my dear Edelgard. Allow me to reward you."

Edelgard blinked as Byleth grabbed a pastry from the plate, placing one end in between his lips.

Edelgard laughed as Byleth inched closer, the pastry glistening in the early sunlight.

When the pastry seemed close enough for her to bite, Edelgard darted forward.

And bit into empty air.

With a slight pout, Edelgard tried again, this time her teeth sinking into the sweet fruit of the pastry.

Byleth opened his jaw slightly wider, taking in a bite of his end of the pastry.

Edelgard had flushed a deep crimson, but she took another bite into the pastry, and Byleth saw a sparkle of joy in her eyes.

Byleth too, bit into the pastry, their lips almost touching.

"Edelgard!" Hubert half shouted as he burst through the door, almost running into Byleth in the process.

Edelgard flinched at the sight of Hubert and let go of the pastry.

Byleth turned around, the half eaten pastry looking like a pair of insectoid incisors dripping bright red blood.

Seeing the murderous look on Byleth's face, the surprised look on Edelgard's face, and the painting of Byleth she had worked so hard on, Hubert swallowed, bowed, and turned tail and bolted.

"Linhardt." Edelgard said with a sigh of anger, their romantic moment ruined.

Byleth quickly finished the pastry. "Yes. Linhardt."

* * *

Linhardt was watching Lysithea from a fairly significant distance when he felt an air of malice whisper through his spine.

He glanced around, checking for any insane redheaded assassins before shrugging.

"Perhaps Hubert hasn't forgiven me for the incident with Caspar?" Linhardt wondered out loud.

"What about Caspar?" A feminine voice asked from a staircase above.

Linhardt sighed. "I could have sworn both Manuela and Mercedes told you to stay in your room. You lost a lot of blood in that battle, and we would hate it if you got hurt."

The voice above sighed. "But I'm bored."

Linhardt glanced back down. "Let me help you down the stairs. Caspar would never forgive me if something happened after all this time."

"What were you talking about anyways? What does Hubert have to do with anything?"

Linhardt sighed. "It's a long story, and I don't think you remember much of it."

"I remember hearing Hubert screaming, but not much else."

Linhardt let out a slight chuckle as he helped the woman down the stairs. "You know half the story then."

* * *

The sight of Hubert fleeing from what seemed like an invisible force with a look of horror on his face would go down in legends as a reminder of the power of love.

But that would not be for a few centuries. The regular denizens of the palace almost instantly began wondering which bath the Brazen Beast of Enbarr had walked into.

It would later be the talk of the town, exacerbated by the fact that Hubert would not stop running until he was well away from the palace.

"Oh! Hubert!" Bernadetta's cheerful voice called out.

Hubert turned to the sight of Bernadetta standing before him, waving hello.

"Back from your trip to Myrddin?" Hubert asked, though Bernadetta could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

Bernadetta nodded. "Yes! Hubert, why are you so tired?

Hubert blinked. "I am not tired."

"Nonsense." Bernadetta said, dismounting and pulling out a handkerchief. "Your forehead is covered in so much sweat. You must have run a great deal. Thank you."

Hubert blinked. "For what?"

Bernadetta turned her head slightly. "For being here to welcome me. You've always been there for me. With the needle back at the academy."

Hubert looked away. "I simply did not want anyone to be hurt by the needle."

Bernadetta nodded as she took his hand, her grip somehow strong as a vice. "I'm here to make my report to Adra- erm, Edelgard."

Hubert nodded. "So, what is it that you need me?"

Bernadetta looked at him again. "I want you to be next to me when I make the report."

Before Hubert could protest, he felt Bernadetta slowly begin to drag him to his doom.

"Wait! I have somewhere I need to be!"

Bernadetta looked confused. "Wait, so you weren't coming out to find me?"

Hubert, perhaps realizing that he had made a terrible error, instantly backpedaled. "No! The kitchen made fresh fruit pastries today. You do like those."

Bernadetta's face lit up. "Wonderful! Bernie will make her report and eat delicious pastries! Come on Hubert!"

With his hand still caught in the grip of an excited Bernadetta, Hubert had no choice but to follow, his legs aching as he was marched to his doom, fuelled by pastries and paintings.

* * *

The third time Yurius glanced at Mortis was the first time he found her looking back.

In the light of the early morning sun, Mortis looked like a teenager's fantasy, and he could tell what had drawn Ryan to her.

Mortis was attractive for sure, and her trousers and blouse left very little to the imagination, her curves no longer hidden by the dark, imposing armour plates of her standard uniform, though a light cloak draped across her shoulders hid some of her features, and the deadly blade sheathed on her thigh would send most suitors running in the opposite direction.

"I won't drop our case." Mortis said with a mild annoyance in her voice. "So focus on the path. Spite did mention it was a dangerous place at times."

Yurius nodded as he turned back to the rocky path that slowly lead to civilization. "Should we rent horses or a carriage once we get into town?"

"Carriage. Two horses would also require a third to carry our belongings. The carriages here would only cost one horse worth of feed, and we should be able to switch horses every night in any case."

Yurius nodded. "Do you think Thales is at Garreg Mach?"

Mortis shrugged. "Possible, but it's more likely he's at Enbarr."

"Was that what you were talking over with Spite before I got there?"

Mortis paused but kept walking. "Mage things."

"So magical stuff I wouldn't understand?"

Mortis shrugged. "That's not wrong. He talked mostly about his last trip to Enbarr."

"Was there anything about Enbarr that he mentioned?"

Mortis let out a sigh. "He mentioned some of the specifics he had seen."

"Anything about the city itself? I mostly stayed the tavern with you know who last time."

"Wonderful. You set that tavern on fire."

"I'm glad you were willing to change our plan."

"Didn't do us much good in the end, but oh well."

Yurius stayed silent at that.

"We are almost at the crossroad Spite mentioned. House Goneril or House Aegir?"

Yurius glanced ahead. "Let's go with Aegir. We can avoid crossing the Great Bridge if we go through with it."

"So be it." Mortis said calmly. "Lead the way."

Yurius paused. "Mortis, why are you looking behind us?"

The woman shrugged. "I don't trust people. That and a scout could mistake us for deserters and open fire."

Yurius raised an eyebrow. "You don't trust even me or Spite?"

Mortis shook her head. "I trust Spite well enough, but you? No."

Yurius winced. "I'm sorry to hear that. Why him and not me?"

"Speech."

Yurius blinked. "The fact that he uses a different vocabulary than me makes him more trustworthy?"

Mortis shrugged. "Amongst other things."

"So why am I not trustworthy?"

Mortis shrugged. "Let's keep walking. I don't want to be out when the sun is fully up."

Yurius blocked her. "I'm willing to let you pass if you promise to explain to me why you don't want to talk to me in the coach."

Mortis glanced at him, the steep path that led below, and back at Shambhala. "Fine, but only if you carry the trunk."

Yurius nodded as they switched, wincing when he realized the trunk was heavier than he would care to admit.

Perhaps he really needed to go back to lifting weights.

* * *

Dorothea found herself in a second floor bedroom in what appeared to be a tavern. She rose from the soft, comfortable bed and breathed in the warm summer air. The room was surprisingly cool, with heavy curtains blocking out the sun.

Slipping on her boots, she opened the heavy wooden door that lead to the main tavern, blinking at the sight of the well lit building and numerous patrons having a lively lunch.

She walked down the steps quietly, but found every pair of eyes in the tavern staring at her.

"There was an imperial general sleeping upstairs?" A man whispered to his companion in a back table.

"My father saw her sing once. He wanted to go back, but she retired before he could." A woman, slightly closer, whispered to a friend.

"You idiots. She's obviously uncomfortable, look away." An older, fatherly voice, snarled at a table close to the bottom of the staircase.

Perhaps it was the fact that the room had fallen into silence, but immediately all the diners turned hastily back to their food, as if she hadn't been there.

She wandered amongst the tables before a waitress approached her, two large plates in hand.

"The boss is in the back room. He'll want to talk to you now that you have been well rested."

Dorothea nodded as the woman placed the two plates before a pair of men on a nearby table, turning toward the unmarked back door.

The room was small but well lit, an open back door providing a view of mid afternoon Enbarr.

"How did you find your rest last night?" The older man asked, his voice was gentle as he gestured to a small chair before him.

Dorothea blinked. "I'm sorry, I must return to the palace. My house staff has probably raised the alarm with the royal palace."

The man shook his head. "My assistant has already sent the message to the royal household. Adrasteia is very much aware of your location. I expect poor Hubert will be sent to escort you back to the palace in good time."

Dorothea nodded before her stomach growled.

She flushed and looked away as the older man chuckled.

"Please, wait here." The man said as he rose from his seat, walking quietly to the door and shutting the heavy frame behind him.

Dorothea sighed and closed her eyes as she waited for the man to return.

* * *

Hubert von Vestra counted himself lucky. Edelgard and Byleth had firmly locked the door after he had walked in, and the unfortunate guard who had tried in vain to stop him frantically shook her head when Bernadetta came to make her report.

Dropping his hand and leaving Hubert to wonder if he had any broken bones, Bernadetta tried to open the door to no avail.

With a sigh of annoyance, Bernadetta grabbed his other hand and marched off, determined to get Edelgard to open a window at the very least.

It was only when they both realized that Bernadetta was too short to actually reach the window did Hubert lift her off the ground. It was hard to do with two very sore hands.

And she witnessed a shirtless Byleth feed a half sleeping Edelgard fruit pastries.

Then Byleth noticed the multi-limbed shadow blocking out the sun and looked at him.

Bernadetta screamed.

Hubert declined to scream, but his arms were still in use holding Bernadetta up, so he couldn't cover her eyes like he wanted to.

Nor could he cover his own eyes to block out the horror. Edelgard not working like a good emperor! And being hand fed pastries! On her back! In a terrible sleeping position!

The room had somehow been magically enhanced, because Byleth simply stuffed the fruit pastry he had on hand into Edelgard's mouth before shutting the curtains, his eyes boring holes where Hubert's forehead probably was.

If looks could murder, Hubert would probably have been deader than Kronya, his father, and the Immaculate One combined.

And hence, he sat in the dining hall with Bernadetta, the girl desperately stuffing her face with cake and he himself emptying his precious alcohol collection at an extraordinary rate.

"Adrasteia." A voice said softly.

Hubert blinked. That wasn't Bernadetta, who sat next to him, still scarfing down cake.

The woman across from him had bright red hair and a face that he somehow recognized.

"Oh!" Bernadetta yelped. "I didn't see you there."

The woman smiled, and Hubert had a sudden urge to turn her into a bloodstain on the carpet, but alas, he was drunk, Bernadetta was right next to him, and the carpet had seen enough shenanigans over the last week.

"What did you say?" Hubert asked, pointing his bottle at the not-stranger.

"This is a message from Paul." The woman said cheerfully. "Adrasteia."

Bernadetta fell back. "Who are you?"

The woman shrugged. "Miss Arnault was approached last night by a bad of assassins."

Hubert hissed in anger. "WHAT? And you only mention this now?"

"We were unsure at the time if there were more attackers. After an extensive patrol, the answer to that particular question appears to be a solid no."

Bernadetta gasped. "Do you know who did it?"

The woman shook her head. "No, all four members of this little ambush were slain."

Bernadetta looked disturbed. "What happened?"

"No need to get into the more uncomfortable details, Lady Varley."

Hubert grimaced. "I'll need to tell Edelgard and Byleth this in due time."

"Tell us what?" Edelgard asked.

"Dorothea Arnault was attacked last night." The red haired woman said, as if mentioning the weather.

"Is she alright?" Byleth asked, his voice enraged.

"She's fine. The attackers have been made an example of. Anyone looking for them will find four decimated corpses."

"We need to see her." Byleth snapped, rising to his feet. "Where can we find Dorothea?"

"She's in a tavern in the Ionius district." The red haired woman glanced at Hubert. "Is he ok?"

Byleth glanced at the disheveled state of Hubert von Vestra and shook his head. "No, he's staying here. I'll summon Shamir, Bernadetta, you're coming too."

Hubert opened his mouth to protest, and seeing the murderous looks on Byleth and Edelgard's faces, wisely decided to shut up.

"We will be waiting for you by the east gate." Edelgard said softly to Byleth, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Bernadetta, the redhead, and the two remaining guards in the room all looked away as Byleth, unhappy with simply a kiss on the cheek, loudly and openly made out with Edelgard.

Hubert stared at them, his face confused before he seemed to realize where he was.

"Umm, Bernadetta?" The redhead asked.

The girl seemed to jump up. "Yes?"

"Hubert's nose is bleeding."

"Eh?" The purple haired girl seemed stunned.

Edelgard and Byleth turned, and sure enough, Hubert was proudly bearing a stream of blood running down his face.

"Someone find him a handkerchief." Edelgard muttered as she turned her back on the unfortunate head of house Vestra, gently dragging Byleth out of the room. "No Byleth, we still need Hubert in one piece. Put your sword away."

Bernadetta sighed. "Oh Linhardt, please do be merciful."

The redhead blinked. "I don't want to know what happened do I?"

Bernadetta shook her head as Hubert's head hit the table. "I would appreciate it if you didn't ask."

* * *

Author's Note: Spelling issues corrected, names fixed, etc.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: In the company of friends.

* * *

The refugee camp was far larger than what Caspar had expected and only a little larger than what Ferdinand had expected.

Ferdinand had expected at least some of the field would remain as farmland, but he was proven wrong.

A rough third of the field consisted of a rudimentary field hospital, defined from the rest of the field by uniform, grey tents.

It was the area closest to the burnt out city, but it was also the quietest.

It was the regular camp where most of the refugees lived, their faces fearful of the half dozen imperial generals who walked amongst them, ushering children desperately inside when any of them approached.

"Are they always like this?" Ferdinand asked Sylvain when they were alone, Ingrid and Ashe having gone into the burned city to find the storehouses.

Sylvain nodded sadly. "I've tried to talk to them, but my reputation precedes me."

"As a skirt chaser?"

Sylvain laughed bitterly. "No, as a traitor."

"Oh." Ferdinand said quietly.

"If they merely cared for the fact that I have a discerning eye for some of the finer things in life, then this would be easy. But no, tragically no."

"Even scarecrows and grandmothers?" Ferdinand asked as they passed an old woman who also would make a terrifying scarecrow.

Sylvain let out an annoyed hiss. "I'll get Ingrid back one day. Maybe I'll make a delicious meal and eat it in front of her."

Ferdinand shook his head, though a smile graced his face. "She would hate that. It would be funny if I did that to Dorothea. She can't cook after all."

Sylvain shrugged. "I don't believe I've tried her cooking."

"Remember the two cookies you said tasted like rock?"

Sylvain flinched in genuine horror. "She made that?"

"Yes." Ferdinand said cheerfully. "I remember Ingrid forced you to eat those as a result of hitting on that poor peasant girl."

Sylvain sighed. "Just please, have someone else be the target of ridicule other than me."

* * *

In Enbarr, royal processions were odd, but the one most would have seen was a sight for the ages.

Barely noticed by the crowd, a young woman lead the way of the rest of the convoy, blending seamlessly through the mob of stunned onlookers.

Following her were the Emperor and the royal consort Byleth, murmuring softly to one another as they walked, though Edelgard did occasionally smile at passerby and exchange pleasantries with guards.

Behind them, Shamir Nevrand stalked through the streets, her eyes sweeping the area for threats.

Barely noticed behind the imperial spymaster was the comparatively tiny frame of Bernadetta von Varley, equal parts confused by an unfamiliar district of Enbarr and nervous at the drunken man carried behind her.

And yet at the end of the train was Hubert von Vestra, carried by two uniformed guards, his head lolling and his legs half walking, despite being carried a foot above the ground.

And that was before he began to sneeze.

The unfortunate guard who had been on duty for the emperor's art room flinched at the terrible sneeze that wracked Hubert's wobbly, drunken form.

"Did someone curse him?" She wondered out loud.

The party ahead stopped and glanced at Hubert, who, having unwisely worn his full uniform, not only looked pale and shiny, but also sickly.

Then a splatter of white landed in his hair.

"Huh. Birds these days." The other guard muttered, the old veteran glancing up with his one good eye.

"Should we turn back?" The woman asked quietly.

Hubert made a noise that sounded like a protest and half sounded like an agreement.

"He said something about the heat I think." Bernadetta offered helpfully.

Hubert, perhaps encouraged, drunkenly nodded, waving a trembling finger up.

A drop of bird dung splattered on his finger.

Perhaps disoriented by the alcohol he had consumed so liberally, Hubert glanced at his finger in confusion, only for a third missile to find the bangs on the right side of his face.

"We should probably leave." The female guard said quietly.

A shout from above caught their attention.

A man and a woman leapt from a second floor window, the man buck naked and dripping water, the woman barely hiding her modesty with a ragged towel.

The man fell to the ground, attempting a sloppy dive roll, but breaking what sounded like a bone, judging from the crunch and subsequent cries for his mother.

The woman fell onto the unfortunate man before a roar echoed from the house the two escaped from.

A set of large, powerful arms rained down a basin of water onto the street below.

Hitting Hubert von Vestra in the face.

"And stay out, Brazen Beast!"

Shamir, Edelgard, and Byleth snickered.

The woman, although only partially clothed, began to shout back at the retreating basin, her voice like that of a harpy, defending her lover from their attacker and insulting the man's aim.

And then the Brazen Beast of Enbarr collapsed, likely due to his two supports trying to get water out of their helmets.

Edelgard glanced at the prone form of Hubert von Vestra on the ground, drenched and still with a small splat of white in the mop that was his hair.

"I think he needs to go back." Byleth offered awkwardly.

The two guards nodded, the man grabbing the defeated Hubert by the back of his collar, slowly lugging the waterlogged Hubert back to the palace, the woman holding on to the man's twitching ankles.

* * *

"What can I say?" Ferdinand said with a shrug. "Misery builds character."

Sylvain sighed and shook his head. "You know what? Forget it. Forget I ever mentioned this to you."

"How miserable do you think poor Ingrid is then?" Ferdinand asked.

Sylvain sighed. "Look. You don't know the first thing about her."

"And so who was it that watched her scarf down two plates of leftovers after you and Casper got your hands on the chicken first?"

"Oh. I was wondering why there were no leftovers. In my defence however, Caspar found the chicken first."

"And the cooks mentioned that you grabbed a leg off it practically instantly."

"With one hand, yes. The other hand went to try to push Caspar back."

Ferdinand facepalmed. "That was not the answer I was expecting."

Sylvain laughed. "I would have liked to see a hungry Ingrid be alone with that chicken for an hour. There would only be bones left."

Ferdinand raised an eyebrow. "I always saw her training. Even more than you in fact."

Sylvain raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Did I mention the time she hauled a screaming Bernadetta out to the sparring grounds?"

Sylvain looked stunned. "When was this?"

"Oh, ern, three months after we met Byleth?"

Sylvain nodded. "Alright, so just before she joined us."

"I didn't think she would go so far just to keep an eye on you."

"I mentioned to her that I had eyes on half the girls in Garreg Mach, and she got so angry that she stood up and demanded Byleth to let her join his class, mid lecture, with probably a dozen students watching. It was hilarious. Edelgard looked confused, Hubert was looking at her funny, and Claude fell out of his chair laughing."

"So about those girls you had eyes for." Ferdinand said quietly. His hand patting Sylvain's shoulder a little harder than what the unfortunate man would have liked.

Almost instantly, Sylvain backpedalled, his face filled with horror as he realized who he was talking to. "They're all taken! I swear!"

Ferdinand laughed, but pressed his hand harder on Sylvain's shoulder. "Tell me more."

"I mean, I'm not getting in Caspar's way. Just look-"

"Yes, we all know what happened to poor Hubert, so we can cross Lindhardt and Lysithea off the list. Go on."

"I'm happy for Ashe and Marianne. I really am! And why did you think I would like children and boys? I have standards!"

"Spare me the confession. Remember, Ingrid told me you made eyes at a scarecrow once, so both Lindhardt and Lysithea were probably on the list. Now, the important part."

"I avoided Dorothea for a month when I learned about the two of you."

"Good choice." Ferdinand chirped approvingly. "See to it that you continue your behaviour for the rest of your life and we shall have no problem."

"As for Bernadetta and Hubert, well, I'm confused about. How the hell did she end up with him?"

Ferdinand laughed and released his hand. "Well, that's true."

Sylvain lit up suddenly. "I heard Felix try to sing last night. So sweet to try to learn Annette's music. But his voice is simply not meant for singing."

Ferdinand raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"And it all goes boom!" Sylvain sang, his voice a mocking parody of his friend. "It works so much better with Annette singing rather than Felix."

Ferdinand frowned. "Sylvain?"

Sylvain ignored Ferdinand as he continued the song Annette had come up with.

Ferdinand gently tapped him on the shoulder.

Sylvain finished on the top of his lungs, his off-key voice hiding the sound of a blade unsheathed behind him.

Ferdinand frantically shook his head.

Sylvain frowned. "What's wrong?"

Ferdinand pointed behind him before he fled in the opposite direction.

Sylvain turned around and found Felix standing behind him, a very sharp sword in his hand and a very angry look on his face.

"Ah."

A murmur from the camp's residents rose up as Sylvain fled from his former friend, frantically pleading for Ingrid to save him.

* * *

The road to Garreg Mach was filled with too many potholes, Yurius decided.

Mortis sat next to him, gingerly rubbing her head.

"That last bump hurt." Yurius said.

Mortis grunted.

Yurius sighed. "How long until our next stop?"

Mortis shrugged. "They said we should reach the next roadhouse should be late in the afternoon."

Another bump threw both of them up, and Yurius winced as Mortis hit the ceiling and fell back down.

"That hurt." Mortis hissed.

"I'm sorry." Yurius said.

"Don't be. You didn't pave this road."

Yurius opened his mouth to reply when the horse reared up, screaming.

Mortis, usually bored, looked furious.

"What the hell is it now?" Yurius shouted up.

"Stand and deliver!" The voice of the carriage driver shouted as the voices of perhaps a dozen men echoed around the fallen vehicle.

"Wonderful. A robbery." Mortis hissed, an orb of magic flickering to life within her hands.

The locked carriage door next to Yurius cracked as an axe buried itself into it.

"Come out quietly!" A bandit shouted.

Mortis hissed in rage as a magical circle flashed into life inside the cramped carriage, the circle coming dangerously close to Yurius's face before dispersing as a scream of agony came from the bandit who had struck their carriage.

Taking advantage of the distracted bandits, Mortis forced the second door of the carriage open, taking up a defensive position at the front of the carriage.

Quickly, Yurius kicked the axe damaged door away and leapt out of the carriage, a long sword flashing in the light.

Mortis quickly dashed to the front of the carriage, magic crackling in her hands.

With a single stroke, Yurius decapitated a young bandit, the boy obviously stunned by the fact that the would be victims were fighting back.

With two of their members dead in a matter of moments, the remaining members of the bandit strike force seemed to glance at each other, confused about what to do.

Their hesitation was rewarded. Mortis unleashed a powerful spell against the largest of the bandits.

The man seemed to stagger as two flashes of light blinded him.

Then a rush of dark magic swarmed the man, forming a crackling orb behind the unfortunate bandit.

The man, despite being blinded, seemed to realize the orb of dark power behind him, but acted too late, his flailing attempt to shield himself from the eruption of dark energy in vain.

An explosion threw the man forward, his mangled corpse crashing to the ground with a sickening crunch several metres away from where he had been a moment prior.

One of the bandits turned and fled, as did their treacherous driver, their steps distant as they leapt into the woods, their confidence in an easy robbery having gone out the nearest window.

One of the men ran screaming at Mortis, waving what might have been a spear a lifetime ago at the mage.

Yurius grimaced as he plunged his sword into the chest of one of the bandits still standing, his boot against the woman's stomach freeing the blade as his victim fell to the earth, dying.

He turned and found the spear wielding attacker towering over Mortis, but her hand had caught the shaft of his spear in a crushing grip, the lack of skill on the part of the man proving to be his downfall.

He winced as her other hand grasped his face, the unmistakable evil whispers that came with particularly cruel dark magic enveloping the air.

From the corner of his eye, Yurius found another bandit charging him, a rusted club in her hands.

He ducked low and sidestepped the attack, plunging his blade into the woman's centre mass.

She flinched, and he watched a look of agony come over her face.

With a slick, clean pull, the sword pulled free of the dying woman, who fell to her knees, feebly clinging to life as she tried to stand, her lifeblood pooling under her armour before she collapsed into a fetal position, never to rise again.

"Mortis?" Yurius called out.

"I'm fine." The woman said, far closer than where he expected.

Turning around, Yurius watched Mortis plant a rusted spear on the chest of one of the first attackers, the man's eyes wide and his lips moving, as if he was begging for mercy.

Then Mortis plunged the blade into the man, and even Yurius flinched as a cruel grin spread across her face.

The other attacker, a young woman, perhaps the sister of the man he had decapitated, had been trying to crawl away, her face turning a ghostly pale at the scene of slaughter before her.

"That's all of them." Mortis snarled, her eyes boring into his. "Minus the two who ran. What a pathetic enemy. These worms didn't even keep their weapons in shape."

Yurius opened his mouth to protest, but a tactic, taught by Spite years prior, came to mind, and he nodded. "We should chase them. Their camp can't be far."

Mortis nodded as she returned to the now horseless carriage, returning with their two trunks.

A rustling of leaves and crunching of leaves, unmistakable in the dying light, made the bandit's escape route obvious.

Mortis sighed as she turned to the half shaded path from which the woman had fled.

"The oldest trick in the book." Mortis said with a shake of her head as she turned to follow the fleeing bandit.

"Mortis, what do we do with our equipment? We can't just leave them here."

"Ah. Yes, that is a good point." Mortis replied. "We should not stray far from our equipment."

Yurius nodded as he glanced at the orange sun dipping into the horizon. "I think we should just report the bandits to the town guard when we arrive in the next village. They'll know what to do better than we do."

* * *

The trip to the tavern had been uneventful once Hubert was safely out of the way.

"Here we are." The woman leading the pack said as they reached a large tavern. "She should be up already."

Edelgard nodded as she opened the door to the tavern, nodding at the various patrons as she passed, gesturing for them to remain seated.

And then she walked into the owner of the establishment, carrying a large sandwich in one hand and a large mug of tea in the other.

"Mister Hawthorne." Edelgard recalled from memory.

The older man nodded as he turned. "Miss Arnault is in the back. I was just bringing her lunch."

Edelgard nodded before she stepped into the back room, one step ahead of the older man.

Dorothea flinched at the sight of Edelgard appearing so suddenly, and hastily rose to greet the emperor.

Edelgard shook her head as Dorothea sat back down again, her hands folded awkwardly before her.

"Go on. You haven't eaten yet." Sir Hawthorne said as he sat down behind the desk, sliding the meal to Dorothea.

"You seem uncomfortable." Byleth offered bluntly to the older man.

The man laughed. "No, I'm merely surprised. I expected Hubert to come alone, possibly with two or three guards at most."

"I apologize for us coming so suddenly." Byleth said as he stood against the wall, his arms crossed against his chest.

"No, please, it's fine. With the situation as it was, I expected a low profile escort back to the palace, but I suppose what you did will do as well."

"Could you tell us about the attackers?" Shamir asked from her position at the open doorway, her tone serious.

"Four men, one wielding a bow, one with a makeshift knife, one with a spear, and one with a carving knife. The one with the carving knife attempted to trick Miss Arnault into coming with him."

Shamir nodded. "Could have been anyone if there were no identifying features."

"Few would be bold enough to attack an imperial army general." Byleth pointed out.

"We purged the corrupt elements of the nobility." Edelgard said as Dorothea quickly finished her food. "Still, we cannot be sure we purged all of them."

Hawthorne sighed. "Can we address the demonic beast in the room?"

"Shambhala." Byleth replied. "You think this was their work?"

"The Kingdom and Alliance are no more, and the nobility has been shattered. While I would admit that we cannot rule out an attack from a foolish noble or a renegade merchant, the most likely faction to launch such an attack would be those who lurk in the dark."

Shamir nodded in response before she glanced out at the busy city street outside the tavern. "If possible, I would like to look at the scene of the attack."

The man nodded as he took away Dorothea's empty plate. "I would be happy to assist you in that."

Shamir shook her head. "I'll take your assistant, if possible. I'd rather not remember the incident in the tavern."

The man laughed at the comment. "But of course. Nobody has to know."

"Everyone here except Bernadetta and Dorothea already knows." Byleth sighed, his lips tightening to a grimace. "I wish I didn't."

"Know what?" Bernadetta asked, curious.

"Hubert was caught in a raid by the city guard on a tavern yesterday. By caught, I meant he was last seen running away."

Bernadetta looked horrified, and Dorothea looked away from her tea.

"He wasn't involved with the fighting much, apart from blasting a drunken idiot, if eyewitness testimony is to be believed, but he had to see some things." Byleth added.

"Let's not talk about it." Shamir snapped, her face flushing. "We have already told the city guard to forget about it."

Dorothea and Bernadetta took the hint, looking away as the room fell into silence.

"I'd like to see the crime scene as early as possible." Shamir said as she tucked in a strand of dark hair.

"I would as well." Byleth said as he uncrossed his arms, making a small turn toward the main tavern.

"Of course." The older man said from the desk. "My assistant will be on hand to provide any assistance you may require."

* * *

"I want WarDonalds." Flayn said about a third of the way into their trip to Garreg Mach.

Seteth raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure the one in Garreg Mach is still running, and we both watched the ones in the kingdom shut down."

"But those fries were so good!" Flayn cried.

"They were good for a little while, but they tasted awful if you didn't eat them quickly."

"I said sorry dad!"

Seteth shook his head. "Besides, WarDonalds wasn't exactly healthy."

Flayn did her best pout.

Seteth sighed. That damned pout. Always her damned pout

"It's deep fried." Seteth protested like a good father.

"It's tasty!"

"If you eat too much you'll get fat." Seteth said calmly. "You don't want that do you?"

"Dummy Thicc."

Seteth turned around to face his daughter, offense and horror rising in his chest. "Pardon me?"

"Dummy Thicc. You don't want to go because you got stuck in the slide last time. I had to pull you out."

Seteth gritted his teeth. "Assuming it's still open, much WarDonalds do you want?"

Flayn grinned. "And an hour of Lumbercraft without Edelgard."

Seteth sighed and shook his head. "I had Byleth talk to Edelgard about the explosions. She promised not to keep destroying your house."

Flayn frowned. "But she got Hubert to do it instead."

"That's not my problem that Hubert likes using explosion magic."

"Fine. An entire hour without Edelgard, her extended family, and all her friends!"

"Are you sure you want to play with Dedue and Gilbert?"

"Damn Byleth and his ability to make friends!"

"Watch your tongue young lady!"

"Dummy Thicc!"

* * *

"Again." The voice said as Ryan collapsed.

"Just one minute." The young man panted.

"One minute in combat could make the difference between survival and dying." Spite said as he took a combat ready stance.

Ryan staggered to his feet as Spite plunged a spear in his direction, falling back as the spear narrowly missed him.

Spite sighed. "Four minutes. I thought Mortis was joking when she said you hadn't lasted twenty minutes."

Ryan shook his head. "I'm sorry."

Spite sighed. "I suppose it's wrong to compare you to Mortis and Yurius. Both of them were well trained in Shangri-la ahead of time."

Ryan laughed. "I'm sorry I wasn't good enough."

"I expect you to practice more in the coming weeks." Spite sighed as he turned away. "We are done here today, but I'm quite disappointed in you."

"What should I do then?"

"Like I just said, practice. It's the only way to improve."

"How long do I have to work to improve?"

Spite shrugged. "You will work until the day I am satisfied with your skill in weapons, either that or another weapons master trains you in my place. This day may come as early as next week, or it may come in a year."

"Just striking a target over and over again? That sounds kind of boring."

"Not only target practice. Mortis learned to use her magic by hunting feral animals. She mastered her spear by learning how to counter every single weapon type in the book with it."

"How well do you know Mortis and Yurius?" Ryan asked as Spite turned to leave.

"What about the two of them?" Spite asked in turn, settling down on the steps that lead to the catwalks above.

Ryan sighed. "What do they like? What kind of weapon skills are they good at?"

Spite shrugged. "Yurius is training to be a sword master. Mortis is a very good dark knight."

"Do they date?"

Spite sighed. "Why would I care about such matters?"

Ryan looked disappointed. "What does Mortis like?"

"Ask her yourself. I was her mentor, not her father."

"Could you tell me more about her?"

Spite shook his head. "I respect her privacy. What she does outside the battlefield is her own business."

"Is there anything you are willing to tell me?"

Spite shrugged. "She was apprenticed to my sister up until a few months ago."

"Why did she stop?"

"Three reasons." Spite said, his tone neutral. "First, she returned here a day before we went on lockdown. Second, my sister was slain in combat, or so the story goes. Third, due to the lockdown, nobody was supposed to come in or leave."

"Then why did you send her on a mission?"

"Because Shambhala is directionless without a leader and a goal. If something did happen to him, then responsibility would fall to me to see that our affairs are in good order. That, and the lockdown has done a number on what remains of our food supplies. For I am a man who acts. If Thales is incapacitated, I would like to know before we starve to death."

"What did she do while apprenticed to your sister?"

Spite shook his head. "I don't know just what exactly she did. I don't care to know either. I saw her maybe six or seven times a year, I provided rest, food, and provisions for the trip back to my sister."

"Could I do some of the feral animal training you mentioned earlier?" The boy asked as he gave his lance a dirty look.

"Not an option until we come out of lockdown." Spite replied. "It's excellent training though. It taught Mortis a great deal outside her magical talents."

The boy raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

Before Spite could answer, laughter echoed in the upper walkways over the training grounds, and multiple sets of footsteps became audible over the sound of young men laughing and shouting.

"Hey boss, can we use the training grounds?" A voice from above called.

Spite turned his head up as Ryan staggered to his feet.

"Go ahead." Spite called back as he rose from his spot at the bottom of the stairs. "As for you Ryan, I suggest you work on your stamina before all else."

"I can do that." Ryan said as Spite turned and walked away.

* * *

"This trip has been surprising." The male guard said to his younger companion when they finally dumped Hubert into his room, the drunken minister snoring loudly.

"How is that?" The woman asked, glancing back at the snoring form of the most feared man in the empire.

"I thought he would be more graceful drunk."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"I served him before the war broke out five years ago."

"Tell me more."

"He won the White Heron Cup while attending Garreg Mach and learned the finer points of dance."

The female guard snorted. "He won the White Heron cup that year?"

The man chuckled and shook his head. "I'm told that a number of my female colleagues at the time found him quite pretty in a skirt."

"I would pay money to see that." The female guard chuckled as she glanced back at the sleeping form of Hubert von Vestra.

"Who knows? You may get lucky."

The guard giggled. "The Brazen Beast of Enbarr. In a skirt!"

* * *

Yurius quietly fed a tiny twig to the fire he had started and watched the flame in action.

Nightfall was due in a few short hours, but the late afternoon sun gnawed on him.

He reached into the small pile of twigs he had gathered and dug deep, pulling a slightly smaller branch from the pile.

"I brought food." Mortis said softly, far too close to him for comfort.

"Mortis, how the hell did you sneak up on me?" Yurius hissed as he fed yet another twig into the flames.

"I didn't use magic, if that's what you are asking." The woman replied.

"Enough about that. The food."

Mortis held up a pair of hares, limp with faces of bulging terror.

Yurius scrambled away from Mortis. "How in Spite's underpants did you get them that way?"

"Mire."

"You poisoned our food? How the hell are we going to eat them?"

"Mire isn't poisonous."

"It gathers poisoned gas and concentrates it! How is that not poisonous?"

"That's true, but with enough know how one is able to understand what is in the air. In this case, I drew out some of hallucinogens in the air and fed it to the rabbits."

Yurius glanced at the rabbits. "How did they die?"

"Does it matter?" Mortis asked in a bored tone.

Yurius gingerly prodded the stiff, frozen corpses and shivered.

"I'll contact Spite and let him know how we fared today." Mortis offered.

"I'll skin and cook the rabbits." Yurius replied as he pulled out a small knife.

"Do you want to use Athame for that?" Mortis asked.

"You own an original Athame?"

"I've owned an original since the day Spite took me on as an apprentice. It's well maintained, though I've never had the need to use it."

"Why did Spite take you as an apprentice anyhow?"

"Long story." Mortis replied as she took her Athame from her sheath.

Yurius took the blade gently and whistled. "Damn. It's a beautiful blade."

Mortis nodded as she stood up. "So I've been told."

"Are the rumours true though?"

"What rumors?"

"Legend has it Spite's mother crafted the Athame set as a gift to her husband and children."

Mortis blinked. "I'm his apprentice, not his wife. I have no idea if it's true."

"Another rumour has it Spite took your virginity."

Mortis snorted. "Another lie. Even if I wanted him to, he would have said no."

"Mortis, are you still a virgin?"

The woman laughed bitterly. "Spite needs his report. Focus on the rabbit."

"Mortis, I'm not even joking. Are you actually a virgin?"

The shattered carriage door slammed in response.

* * *

The attack site had been well cleaned by the time they had arrived. Four bodies lay off to the side, heavy canvas hastily dumped over the bodies.

Still, the intersection had been closed off, and it was only the presence of both the imperial spymaster as well as the royal consort that convinced the guards to let them in.

"Tell me how this attack unfolded." Shamir said as she glanced at the faint bloodstains that had yet to be washed away."

Their guide shrugged. "The first one came up to us with a message from the emperor.

"Did he mention the name?"

"No. Dorothea mentioned the name Adrasteia, but he had no reaction to the name."

"And then she attacked him." Shamir finished.

"He pulled out a knife." The woman shrugged.

Byleth nodded. "Fairly amateur. I doubt they were related to Shambhala though."

"Why do you figure that?" The woman asked.

"Adrasteia is the name of one of those who lurk in the dark. Should they have been from Shambhala, they should have at least recognized the name of a fairly senior member."

"Senior member?" The woman asked.

"Adrasteia was present in the imperial capital when the experiments that killed most of Edelgard's siblings were conducted."

The woman flinched in disgust. "That's horrible!"

"He was tasked with burying one of Edelgard's siblings." Shamir said grimly. "Edelgard heard him complaining about it to another member of the group."

The woman nodded. "Alright, so it's not Shambhala behind this attack then, assuming that someone from Shambhala would recognize the name."

"They were poorly prepared. Dorothea is one of the empire's best mages."

"Not to mention that you were also present to assist." Byleth added.

The woman shook her head. "I was only there by chance."

Shamir frowned. "I do have a question."

"What's wrong?" Byleth asked.

"You do seem familiar." Shamir said to the red haired woman.

"Huh?"

"Yes, I do remember you in Garreg Mach before."

"Oh really?" Byleth asked Shamir.

Shamir nodded and turned to Byleth. "She wasn't part of your year, but I do remember her. Why can't I remember her name again?"

"Well?" Byleth asked, turning to the girl.

Or, where she should have been.

The girl had disappeared, though the overturning of a nearby crate suggested that she was surprisingly quick.

"Well, I haven't seen that since Bernadetta met Hubert. Either that or she warped herself away."

Shamir raised an eyebrow. "Well, I suppose I understand what you mean. About Bernadetta anyways."

"Byleth." Edelgard called.

Byleth turned as the rest of the group arrived, Edelgard in front.

"We are preparing to head back to the palace." Edelgard said as she came face to face with Byleth. "Have you reached any conclusions?"

"We have. It's unlikely that Shambhala was behind the attack." Shamir started. "Eyewitness testimony says that the attackers didn't recognize the name Adrasteia."

"Actually, hold on." Byleth interjected. "What if Adrasteia was using a different name? Like how Kronya used the identity of Monica von Ochs to infiltrate the academy?"

Shamir blinked. "Oh, so that's where I knew her from."

"Huh?" Byleth asked.

"That woman we were talking to. She reminded me a great deal of Monica von Ochs."

"Is that so?" Byleth asked, his voice tight.

"Oh." Shamir replied, perhaps realizing her words came out wrong. "I meant the Monica von Ochs, who was in Garreg Mach the year before you, not Kronya. Monica was actually fairly shy and friendly."

Edelgard blinked. "It's getting late. In any case, I wish to consult with Hubert once he's sober and had a bath."

"Understandable." Shamir said as she turned back in the direction of the palace.

* * *

It was only after the sun had set did Leonie and Lorenz arrive at the small town that had requested their help.

"Who do you think is behind it?" Leonie asked her partner as she dismounted her horse.

"Which incident are you talking about? Adrastea or the commoners who requested our help?"

"Who do you think ordered the shift in goods to Myrddin?"

Lorenz shook his head. "Some dastardly rogue who wanted to cause suffering to the common folk."

Leonie snorted. "Isn't that obvious."

The comment soared over his head, and Lorenz blinked. "I suppose I am wrong about it being a rogue. Bernadetta did mention it that whoever it was had the audacity to attempt to forge the seal of House von Hevring. That's not something your average thug can achieve."

Leonie nodded. "How long do you think it'll take for us to finish off the bandits here?"

Lorenz shook his head. "If we can draw them into open battle and the local civilians help us, I say we are done in a few days, maybe a week."

"Worst case?"

"Possibly two weeks, but we should be able to thin out their numbers."

"Ignatz may come by later with Maya."

"I see. An extra set of skilled hands would do great work."

Leonie nodded as a town guard ran by. "Soldier, where is the mayor's office? We are the reinforcements from the Great Bridge of Myrddin you requested."

The guard seemed stunned for a moment. "Ah."

"Good sir, why are you in such a rush at this late hour?" Lorenz asked.

The man seemed to flinch as he recognized Lorenz. "Lord Gloucester! There is a bandit attack at the village gates! I ran back to call for aid."

Lorenz shared a glance with Leonie, both pulling their weapons out. "You will have your aid. Lead the way!"

The man nodded as he turned back to what Lorenz could only presume to be the gates, his heavy footsteps leading into the dark.

* * *

It was late in the evening when dinner was served at Garreg Mach.

First to the table had been Lysithea, who, despite having eaten at least three slices of cake since noon, was still hungry, though she had the patience to wait for Linhardt, who arrived later, stretching his arms as he sat down next to Lysithea.

The two of them sat alone for a while, Lysithea munching on a pastry and Linhardt taking a nap on her shoulder.

When Lysithea was running short on pastries, the doors to the great hall opened once more, and three women walked in.

Annette waved cheerfully at Lysithea while Marianne and Mercedes settled quietly into the table.

"How was your day?" Mercedes asked quietly, glancing at the sleeping form of Lindhardt.

"Tiring." Linhardt said, one eye opening to survey the group assembled before him.

Mercedes nodded. "Any progress on your research?"

Linhardt sighed. "I've pored over our books for weeks, but so far, nothing. Hanneman and Manuela also have had very little luck on the subject."

"What would it take for you to find a solution?"

Linhardt paused. "I'd have to understand what happened to Lysithea and Edelgard to begin with before I can form a conclusion."

All the faces at the table hardened at the words.

"I know it's not possible, not unless the individuals behind the experiments kept notes. Even if they did, it's been over a decade since Edelgard and Lysithea suffered through what they did, it's entirely possible that whatever notes they took at the time have been lost or destroyed."

The door creaked open once more, and the sight of the grinning Raphael and Alois brought group morale back up again.

"How was work?" Mercedes asked warmly, a smile brightening her face.

"Same old." Alois said as he sat down. "Rewarding as ever. Where's dinner?"

Even Marianne cracked a smile as a pair of cooks came forward, putting a large cut of beef on the table.

"Oh!" Annette cried out, a second before Raphael was about to devour the first potato.

The group paused.

"We need to get food up for you know who."

Linhardt nodded. "Oh yes, that's correct. Would you like me to bring it to her?"

Annette shook her head. "It's fine! I'll bring it up to her!"

Annette's stomach growled in reply.

Mercedes and Linhardt shared a small smile as the rest of the table exploded into laughter.

Taking a plate in one hand and a large mug of tea in the other, Linhardt made to leave the room, while Annette desperately dug into her food, her face a blazing crimson.

"Oh!" Lysithea exclaimed, this time too late to save the potato from Raphael a second time. "Lindy forgot the cake!"

"Would you care to deliver a slice up then?" Mercedes asked, cutting a generous slice of the delicious cake and placing it on a plate.

Lysithea nodded as she picked up the plate, walking side by side with the smiling Linhardt.

* * *

**AN**: More spelling mistakes corrected.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: The chapter where basically everyone eats dinner.

* * *

"I trust everyone had an uneventful day?" Ferdinand asked as Ingrid and Ashe walked into the main command tent, the last members of the Black Eagles to arrive.

"We've been searching the city for any trace of the warehouse. So far we have found little more than wood, ash, and dead bodies." Ashe replied grimly.

"Nothing to report from the air either. Most of the city's buildings have either collapsed or are incapable of handling the weight of a pegasus."

Sylvain put an arm around Ingrid's shoulder, and the woman tiredly shrugged him off. "Look, Sylvain, I'm very tired."

From around the table, Felix watched quietly, unspeaking as he polished his sword.

Sylvain laughed nervously as he stole a piece of potato from Ingrid's plate, darting away before she could retaliate.

Ingrid glared at Sylvain as he devoured the potato.

Before a tired Ingrid could bludgeon Sylvain, Ashe hastily emptied his almost untouched plate onto Ingrid's plate.

Ferdinand sighed. "Sylvain, it's not a noble thing to steal food from a woman."

Sylvain laughed. "But we are friends. And friends share things."

Felix responded by grabbing Sylvain's plate away from the distracted man.

"Oi!" Sylvain cried out.

Felix sneered as he slid the plate over to Ashe. "But we are friends. And friends share things."

Sylvain remained in his dramatic pose, stunned by the betrayal of Felix. "Ingrid, I beg of you, allow me to join you in dining."

"No." Ingrid replied, turning away from Sylvain and turning to Ashe. "So, Ashe, did you find anything in particular?"

Ashe shook his head. "There were a lot more barricades in the district we covered today. I dismantled a few of them, but it's very difficult doing it alone."

Felix nodded as he battered away Sylvain. "Alright then. Are any of the barricades useful?"

"I'll help dismantle those barriers tomorrow." Caspar said.

Ashe nodded. "There was a fairly long line of barricades around what might have once been a ballista. We might be able to get some usable timber out of them."

Caspar nodded. "Timber is in high demand these days."

"It is." Ferdinand confirmed. "I'll be trying to make inroads with the locals. From what I've seen, they don't seem to like us very much."

"I'll be patrolling the road to Garreg Mach." Felix said. "Some of our guards reported that there were bandits lurking in the trees. Even if it doesn't turn out to be true, we can never be too safe. Even a single day of lost supplies could lead to disaster."

"I'm going to sleep once we finish dinner here if that's alright with everyone." Ingrid said as she hastily finished off most of the meal originally intended for Ashe. "I'm sorry everyone, but I'm very tired."

"I'll walk you back, and maybe then you'll fall in love with me." Sylvain said in a tone that made everyone at the table cringe. "Just imagine! Us alone under the night sky. Face to face. Nobody watching."

Ingrid shook her head. "I'd rather not."

"So you want the entire camp to know about it? My goodness. I never knew you were so bold!"

Ingrid glared at him. "I've lost my appetite."

"As have I." Felix muttered, his blade reflecting the gleam of the candles.

Sylvain shuffled hastily away from Felix. "But wait! You've left so much food on the table! Who are you imposter? And what have you done to Ingrid?"

"Sylvain, just what exactly do you intend to do tomorrow?" Ingrid asked, sliding her overloaded plate to the middle of the table, the food coming to a quiet rest just outside the reach of Sylvain.

"I erm, uhh." Sylvain stammered.

Felix sighed. "Fine, Sylvain will be with me. He'll annoy Ingrid if he went to the city."

"The local residents really hate you, more than usual." Ferdinand added. "So I suppose you'll have to go with Felix."

Felix sighed. "I certainly hope the bandits will actually prove to be a good fight. I would probably lose my mind putting up with him otherwise."

"Oi! I resent that!"

"Would Edelgard and Byleth mind if he met a violent accident?" Felix wondered out loud.

"Probably." Caspar said, the subtle threat going over his head. "Do be careful out there."

Ferdinand opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and shut up again.

* * *

"Any luck?" Yurius asked as Mortis returned to the small fire where the rabbits were cooking.

"Yes, I've sent the message."

"What did he say?"

"Continue our mission. That and he wanted to toss Ryan off a catwalk."

"What did Ryan do?"

"Didn't ask. I don't want to know anyways.

Yurius snorted and turned back to the fire. "The rabbit isn't going to taste great. I forgot to bring salt along."

"Unfortunate." Mortis replied.

"How do you want to do guard duty?"

"One of us should take a vantage point while the other one sleeps. If anyone comes up to us, we'll see them before they see us."

Yurius nodded. "When the time comes, do you want to take first shift?"

Mortis nodded. "There's no shortage of cover in this region. I'll set up somewhere quiet, maybe in a tree."

Yurius nodded. "I'll set up some traps. The carriage is useless, but the glass window can be repurposed to be an advance warning for anything large coming our way."

"Good plan." Mortis replied as she turned to the fire.

* * *

Ingrid sighed happily as she left the tent.

The night was cool and fresh, and certainly didn't have annoying perverts lurking in the dark.

"Ingrid?" Ashe asked, popping out from the tent.

"Yes Ashe?" Ingrid asked her friend as she turned around.

"I wanted to talk to you about the operation today." Ashe said as he walked alongside her.

Ingrid nodded. "What do you want to know?"

"I was wondering if your aerial view was able to find anything in particular."

Ingrid shook her head. "I'm truly quite sorry, but the layout of the city makes it difficult to stay in the air for long. The destruction of the church towers in the city means that an aerial view would be highly limited."

"Could you possibly land on the city ramparts tomorrow?" Ashe asked quietly.

Ingrid sighed as she slowed her pace, the two of them pausing as a rabble of children ran by, oblivious to the two imperial generals that they had passed.

"The ramparts would be difficult. Landing on one of the town's towers may be useful, but again, those aren't made of stone, and I'm unsure if it can support a pegasus for long."

Ashe nodded. "I'll try to find a way to the ramparts myself. Perhaps that will allow for us to find a decent vantage point."

"How should we proceed?" Ingrid asked, yawning.

"I think we should split up at the start of the day. I'll be in the district we were looking at today."

Ingrid nodded. "I'll be moving deeper into the city. If I find anything, I'll fly back."

Ashe nodded as they reached the tent Ingrid was sleeping in. "That's a good idea."

"I'll see you in the morning." Ingrid said as she stepped inside the tent.

"Sleep well Ingrid." Ashe replied.

Ingrid nodded as she turned to the mattress she had set up. "I hope you sleep well too."

Ashe laughed. "I'm not so lucky to sleep alone. My bed is next to Felix, and well, he likes to sing."

Ingrid undid her boots before she shifted onto her bed. "Tell me more."

"He sings the songs Annette used to sing."

Ingrid snorted as she rolled up the covers, kicking off her boots in the process. "I hope the others aren't giving you much trouble?"

Ashe shook his head as he recalled the antics of his bedmates. "It's fine. It is hard to get sleep there though. Sylvain comes in very late and Felix sings very loudly in his sleep."

Ingrid shook her head. "Perhaps you could put your bed next to mine. Perhaps then you could get some good rest.

Ashe laughed at the suggestion. "I'm afraid I must decline. It might give off the wrong idea."

Ingrid blinked before she yelped. "Oh no Ashe, I didn't mean it like that."

Ashe felt himself flush a deep red as he hastily turned away from Ingrid, who he could tell was as red as he was.

"I'm going to go now!" Ashe stammered as he turned away from Ingrid. "Sleep well!"

Ingrid, now safely hidden under her covers, curled into a ball as Ashe fled.

* * *

The town guard had, unfortunately, been entirely serious about the state of the bandit attack.

A handful of town guards, their red uniforms proud in the torchlight, had formed a hasty defensive line at the town gate, occasionally thrusting a sword or spear blindly through gaps in the wall.

"Have no fear!" Lorenz shouted. "Lorenz Hellman Gloucester is here to help!"

The town guards did not reply. Neither did the bandits on the other side of the wall.

Leonie rolled her eyes and the guard that had guided them to the wall rushed forward, stabbing wildly at a particular gap in the wall.

A shout from above caught Leonie's attention as a dark figure leapt over the fence, a rust-eaten blade reflecting off of the dim torch light.

Leonie rushed the man before the knife could go into the back of one of the town guards, Lorenz waiting on the side of the narrow barricade.

Sure enough, a bandit leapt over the fence, a crude club in his hands.

Lorenz thrust his spear up as gravity forced the man down, the blade easily tearing through the pitiful armour the man wore.

On the other side of the fence, Leonie slashed at the falling man's arm, the tip of her spear tearing into his unprotected flesh.

The man shrieked as he was forced against the wall, his other arm feebling clawing at the deep wound he had suffered.

A guard, noticing the bandit for the first time, promptly skewered the man with his spear, hastily breaking formation to repeatedly strike the dying man.

Lorenz winced as he pulled his spear free from the bandit that had half landed on him, grimacing as he took a step back.

A small pebble flew over the barricade as he watched, narrowly missing one of the guards. A moment later, Leonie grabbed the pebble and threw it back, a scream and a painful thud on the other side confirming that she had hit a target.

A larger stone flew over the barricade, this time narrowly missing one of the guards and Leonie swore.

"Shield wall!" Lorenz shouted over the din of battle.

For a moment, the guards holding the wall stared at the noble as if he had gone mad, but quickly the guard reorganized, scrambling some feet back as they tested the integrity of their weapons and shields.

Leonie glanced at her partner as she took two steps back, covering the left flank of the half dozen men who guarded the battered barricade.

Lorenz stood proudly on the right, his face grim as the barricade began to shake.

Finally, the barricade fell, splinters of broken wood failing to stop the advance of the bandits.

There were maybe a dozen bandits leaping over the ruined entryway, two or three more hopping the fence, for a total of around fifteen.

"Hold!" Lorenz barked as the group of bandits approached, his words causing more than one to look at him strangely.

Then three bandits charged forward, their rushed attack slow due to their close proximity with the shield wall.

In uniform fashion, the town guards struck.

The lead bandit had rushed far closer to the enemy as his two companions, the towering frame of the man looming over the defensive line.

Two spears lashed out, plunging into the man as he prepared to bring a crushing blow against the shield of the town guard in the centre of the shield wall.

The sudden movement caught him off balance as the spears were unflinching in his flesh, the man roaring in pain as he attempted to pry himself free.

At the sight of their leader in pain, both of the men who had charged the line seemed to have a last minute change of heart, but fell victim to their own inertia.

The man on the left tripped and fell face first to the ground, and Leonie dashed forward,slamming her spear into the man's back, silencing him instantly.

The man on the right bowled into the heavy shield wall, his bulk crashing into the solid wood of the shields, his face turning to agony as a sword plunged into his stomach.

The bandits, now milling behind the first group, seemed worried when Lorenz saw them again, the first wave falling to the ground, dead.

"Two steps back!" Lorenz barked, the defensive formation shifting slowly as the bandits toyed with their weapons.

Then Leonie made her fateful move, a spare hand pounding her chest.

The bandits saw red, with what remained of their line breaking, an undisciplined mob raging forward against the solid shield wall.

There was a clash of steel as rusted blades met the well crafted and maintained weapons of the town guard, who rose as a single unit, pushing the attacking force back as they overran the corpses of the first wave.

For the bandits who had charged the centre of the shield wall, the sudden attack came too quickly for them to react, the bandits staggering as they fell over the corpses of their comrades.

With the wave of bandits having their attack stopped wholesale, the town guard began their offensive. Shields slammed into faces as spears and swords plunged into undefended limbs and throats.

The bandits who had not been pinned down by the shield wall seemed to realize their attack had failed, their hollow courage breaking as they seemed to realize they were trapped.

Leonie and Lorenz did not hesitate to exploit their advantage.

Leonie was the first of the two to strike, running through the first bandit on the left flank with her spear, the hesitant man unaware of the rapid strike until he had fallen victim to it.

The other leading man had already turned to flee when Lorenz struck, finding the broad side of the man's back as his spear chose to break inside the man.

The man, maimed by the attack, dropped a heavy lance to the ground, one Lorenz seized as the man gasped in his death throes.

It was a heavier weapon than what he had been used to, fighting under the command of the professor, but it performed as expected, the spike piercing the second fleeing bandit who had attempted to climb the side barricade in a desperate attempt to escape.

The wound had hit the man in the thigh, and the man fell heavily to the ground as Lorenz pulled the weapon free, turning the heavy weapon against the screaming mass of limbs that the bandit wave had devolved to.

It was only when the screaming ended did Lorenz look upon the scene of slaughter.

Leonie had squatted down and was breathing heavily, her spear planted neatly in the back of a bandit squashed against an unbroken piece of barricade, the lack of weapons in his hands suggesting he had been attempting to flee when he had been cut down.

"Lord Gloucester." The voice of one of the guards called out.

"Yes, my good sir?" Lorenz replied as he watched the guards check themselves for injury.

"Thank you for taking command there. We had all seemingly forgotten to fight as a unit when the bandits arrived."

Lorenz shook his head. "All in a day's work. Tell me, are bandit attacks like this common?"

The town guard shook his head. "Bandits do come, but most are highwaymen who attack carriages, it is rare for such a large force to come at our town so suddenly."

Lorenz nodded. "Leonie, go summon the mayor. I will ensure that the guards here are well treated for any injury."

The town guard who had escorted them to the position shook his head. "No need, Lord Gloucester, we can take care of ourselves."

"Nonsense. We are comrades. We fought off the bandits as a unit. I will not let you bleed while I can do something about it."

The guard who had approached Lorenz sighed. "Miss Leonie, I'll take you to the mayor's office. Lord Gloucester, please do take care with my men. We have very few medical supplies."

Lorenz shook his head as he pulled out a small packet from his armour. "I carry field dressings for these situations. Allow me to assist your soldiers."

The man, perhaps too tired to argue, nodded. "I'll see to it that the militia are rallied. If nothing else to clear these bodies away."

Lorenz nodded as Leonie followed him away. "I'll see to it that your men are in good hands."

"Thank you again, Lord Gloucester." The guard said as he hurried away.

Lorenz turned to the other guards as his partner disappeared from sight.

* * *

Mortis first saw the bandit girl from her position hidden in a tree along the bend.

It was a dark, cloudy night, though rain was still perhaps a day or two off.

The sight of the girl darting about, wasting energy made her hiss in disgust, though the act showed Mortis that something was different about the bandit.

Whereas Mortis had grown up with boring but satisfying meals in Shangri-la and Shambhala, the girl before her had been scrawny, clearly malnourished.

Mortis did not make a sound as she watched the girl drag a decapitated body away from where it had fallen, the girl making the occasional glance at the carriage where Yurius slept. Was this girl another victim of the war, or had she gone to bed hungry even before their puppet had plunged the continent into warfare?

"The answer matters not." Mortis whispered out loud, waiting until the girl began to claw at the dirt alongside the road where the ambush had taken place to make her way down the tree.

She took three small, measured steps before she stood still, watching as the girl broke down into tears, her slender frame wracked with sorrow.

Mortis took another step closer as the girl clawed at the earth again, this time in a frantic, desperate manner, though Mortis figured the girl's gasps and single-minded focus on burying the body would hide her own presence for some time.

Mortis took another step as the girl pried away a rock from the dirt, watching as the rock was tossed over the girl's shoulder, narrowly missing a nearby tree as it began to fall.

It was then that the moon peeked out from beyond the clouds, and the looming shadow of Mortis became obvious to the girl clawing at the ground.

The girl turned, and to her credit, did not scream.

Mortis stood silently as the bandit girl froze in place, the air silent except for the occasional bird call and the rustling of the wind.

"If you intend to kill me, make it quick." The bandit croaked out, her tense body slowly loosening as she seemed to accept her impending death.

"No." Mortis snarled.

The bandit closed her eyes as Mortis turned away.

"Tell me." Mortis ordered. "Why should I show you mercy in a quick death? It was your group that attacked us, not the other way around."

The bandit said nothing.

"Do you know how long I could take to kill you?" Mortis asked softly, lowering herself to a crouch, a small orb of dark magic swirling in each of her open hands.

The bandit shook her head, though Mortis saw something she like behind her eyes.

Fear.

"There are so many places to start. Perhaps I'll cut something minor, but we are out in the middle of nowhere. How would you find medical care out here? If you held the wound tight, perhaps you might only die from dehydration or starvation."

The girl inched backward, a whimper escaping her lips, her body tense once more.

"Or perhaps I'll throw the idea of dignity out of the window. Maybe I'll break one of your legs. Watch you try to crawl away from here."

"What do you want?" The bandit asked.

"I'm actually quite angry. You and your little band of outlaws delayed my travels."

"We were hungry." The girl protested.

"You could have chosen to farm, to make something of your miserable life."

"That wasn't an option! We didn't have any food left! The bastard count took it all!"

"Yes, that sounds like a very bold faced lie. Keep lying to me."

"It's the truth! He hates House Gloucester and wanted to see it burn!"

"And how would starving his own peasants achieve that goal?" Mortis asked.

"He wanted us to steal food from House Gloucester."

"And yet, here you are, committing highway robbery."

The woman sniffed. "It's not harvest season, and we were hungry."

"The other corpses didn't look hungry to me."

"They didn't feed me anything. Said I was a waste of food."

"Were they right?"

A flash of anger came from the girl's eyes, but it disappeared as the girl looked down in shame.

"Yes."

Mortis sighed as she stood up, watching the pitiful bandit before her. "You know what? Killing you would be a waste of my time."

"Mortis! No! Don't kill her!" Yurius shouted as he scrambled forward, bare chested and still blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

"Did you even hear what I just said?" Mortis snorted.

"I heard you utter the words killing you."

"I said that killing her would be a waste of my time."

"Oh." Yurius said, suddenly realizing that he was shirtless and standing awkwardly before two hostile women.

Mortis snorted as she turned to the carriage, the bandit still cowering in her ditch. "What is it with you and girls in distress?"

Yurius blinked as he stared at his partner. "I uhh."

Mortis shook her head. "My shift is over, though I would put on a shirt before you start yours."

"Ah." Yurius muttered as Mortis tossed him a long sleeved shirt from the chest in the carriage.

"Wake me when the sun is up." Mortis said quietly as she slammed the carriage door shut.

* * *

Edelgard stood quietly as Byleth pulled her chair back, gesturing for her to sit.

"Thank you." Edelgard said as she sat down.

"How did you find the day?" Byleth asked.

"Murder. More ways than one."

"How so?" Byleth asked.

"Well, there was the business with Hubert, the business with Dorothea, the fact that I saw a dead person today, and the fact that the cobbles of the capital do not pair well with the boots I chose to wear today."

Byleth nodded. "Shall we go shopping in the near future?"

Edelgard shook her head. "We cannot afford to waste time."

"We don't even know where Shambhala is. We don't even know what the bastard who experimented on you looks like."

Edelgard sighed as two plates of food were settled before them, thanking the server with a nod before turning back to Byleth.

"I'm afraid." Edelgard said softly.

Byleth swallowed, remaining silent.

"Unless Linhardt and Hanneman manage some miracle, I might only have a few years to live. And if we don't bring down Shambhala in that time…"

Byleth rose from his seat and walked to Edelgard. "El, I'm sorry I wasn't there, but we will take those years they stole from you back. Mark my words."

Edelgard shook her head. "It's all in the past now, but even with the continent united, I'm still worried about the future."

"El." Byleth whispered as he brought his arms tight around Edlegard.

"All this time, all the allies we gathered, all the enemies we have defeated. What if it was all for nothing?"

"Don't say that. We gave Fodlan a better future. A brighter future. And there is nothing Shambhala can do to steal that away from us."

Edelgard sniffed as Byleth eased her out of her chair, his arms strong as he gently set her down next to them.

They sat there for a while, Byleth drawing intricate little circles on Edelgard's belly.

Edelgard made a tiny whimper of protest as she buried her face into his chest. "I just."

"Shush El. There will be no Hubert here to ruin our moment."

Edelgard giggled as Byleth found a silver of skin that wasn't covered by her dress.

"Stop that. It tickles." Edelgard protested halfheartedly.

Byleth replied by bringing a firmer touch to bear, long, slow strokes that made Edelgard almost purr.

"That does feel wonderful." Edelgard whispered, her face content.

"Tomorrow, we are going shopping. If nothing else, to remind the people of Enbarr that the war is over."

Edelgard mumbled a protest in response.

"No complaining El."

Edelgard's stomach growled.

Byleth laughed as he reached over to the table, his hand pulling the plate of food back as Edelgard came even closer to him.

"Open wide, my cute little artist."

Edelgard punched him lightly before she opened her mouth.

Byleth smiled as he began to feed Edelgard bite by bite.

* * *

Hubert von Vestra slipped out of the icy cold bath with no less pain in his head than when he had entered it.

His head throbbing, he quietly returned to his office, his anger sated by tossing Edelgard's love letters and creepy requests into his fireplace.

It took a considerable amount of time, likely more than an hour, but the burning scent of parchment soothed his soul.

With a sigh of content, he glanced over at his clean desk, now free of unrequited love and nightmares about bath water.

And then he began to think of the problems at hand.

"Where is Paul Hawthorne when you need him?" Hubert grumbled to the walls of his office.

Receiving no answer from the plaster walls of his office, Hubert rose from his seat, stretching his arms as he considered his options for the night.

"Perhaps Edelgard is still awake." Hubert said quietly, turning back to his door. It was time for a walk.

* * *

"I'm going to transfer somewhere quiet." The guard said to her partner as the night grew long and stale.

"Not many positions left in the empire. Though Fodlan's Locket is always hiring." The elder guard said.

"You plan on staying?"

"My wife and son are both in Enbarr. He's studying to become a mage."

The woman nodded. "That does sound nice, having family here and all."

"Good evening." The voice of Hubert von Vestra said as the man stepped forward, having somehow melded with the shadows until then.

"Good evening." The older guard replied.

"Is the emperor finished with her meal? I would like to speak with her."

"The emperor is having a private dinner with her consort."

Hubert nodded. "Very well then, I will wait for them out here, if you have no objections?"

Both guards shook their heads.

"As for your earlier question, yes, the master of Fodlan's Locket is constantly on the lookout for additional forces, although something tells me that Almyra isn't going to invade us anytime soon. Their last invasion force was sent packing very quickly."

"Oh, I didn't mean to let that slip."

"Yes, but as Minister of the Imperial Household, I should know about these things. If the palace guards have concerns about their place of work, they should speak up about it."

The two guards exchanged a glance.

"Why is it that you want to go elsewhere to work?" Hubert continued.

The guard blushed. "Erm, the emperor is very passionate."

"Ah." Hubert replied. "Yes, that is something I've noticed around the professor. But tell me more. Is that really a problem?"

"Yes!" The guard squeaked. "It brings to mind unpleasant things."

Hubert glanced at the door. "Oh. I see. Is there any other reason these… unpleasant thoughts come to mind?"

The woman swallowed. "Yes…"

"Well, do tell then."

"The royal consort is erm."

"What about Byleth?"

"Ahh, uh. Hesveryhandsome."

Hubert blinked as he glanced at the blushing guard, playing her words over in his head. "Ah. I see."

The door swung open, and both guards snapped to attention.

"Hubert." Byleth said evenly, Edelgard curled up in his arms. "Have you recovered from your hangover?"

Hubert nodded gingerly as both of the guards turned their gaze away from the royal consort.

"Byleth, why is Edelgard in such a state of undress?"

Both guards seemed to flinch in reaction to the question, turning away even further from the royal couple in response.

"We left her crown in the bedroom, because, well, it's heavy." Byleth offered as he stepped forward.

Hubert glanced at the exposed sliver of Edelgard's belly and felt a slight heat run through his face. "I see."

"As for the fact that she's no longer wearing her boots, she mentioned over dinner how poor they are for walking the streets of Enbarr. We will correct that issue tomorrow."

Hubert looked, and sure enough, Edelgard's stockinged feet hung loosely over Byleth's arm.

"Hubert, if you wish to talk, allow me to tuck Edelgard into bed first." Byleth said.

"Of course. Should I bring anything from the room?"

"I suppose it would be poor manners to leave a pair of boots untended to in a room, but nothing else."

"Of course." Hubert said quickly as Byleth turned away. "Anything you say."

* * *

Spite found the late night air cool and fresh as he climbed down the old mountain path. The outcropping he sought was out of the way and overlooked a village in House Goneril territory.

It was when he reached the stony ledge when he found his breath taken away by the sight of the village at night. Even at their late hour, perhaps a dozen houses still had light.

The sight brought back memories that he frowned at. While the memories in question were pleasant, the memories that followed them were anything but.

Taking a cold gasp of the mountain air, Spite felt like he was twenty seven again, on his first major outing outside the defensive guns of Shambhala, a time where he still had parents and sisters.

Spite closed his eyes and pictured the young man in his mind's eye, naive, far too out to prove himself.

In a sense, the young man reminded him of Mortis.

The thought of his only apprentice brought a smile to his face. If he had done nothing else with his life, if all of his actions would be lost and undone, he would always have a successful apprentice to his name.

Subconsciously, he reached into the folds of his coat, his fingers brushing the leather bound notebooks a younger man had made, his original name proudly emblazoned the first page.

The touch of the leather brought a mad thought to his mind. He could indeed be done with his legacy. All he needed to do was to toss the papers over the mountain ledge, to let them plummet where the winds willed.

But he was not stupid. His notes alone had cost the lives of dozens, and was built on the lifeblood on hundreds more before him. It would be an insult to the world to toss all the sacrifice away.

And thus Spite settled down on the rocky ledge, and felt content as he watched the distant village mill about.

* * *

It was close to midnight when Ashe slipped back into the main command tent to finish the dinner that had been left behind.

To his disappointment, the plate with Ingrid's dinner on it was empty, the chicken bones missing and even the overcooked vegetables having been devoured.

"That's odd. Nobody except me and Ingrid would eat those."

Almost instantly, he ruled out the other members of the Black Eagle Strike Force. Caspar hated vegetables, Ferdinand was too uptight about being a noble to clean a plate so carefully, and Felix and Sylvain had avoided their overcooked vegetables entirely.

A noise caught his ear as he turned around, a dagger slipping into his hands.

His eyes sharp despite the dim light, there was little in the room that could have made the sound. While one of the training lances in the room could indeed have fallen over, all six sat neatly in position along the back wall, just as they should have been.

What should not have been was the crate quietly shuffling along toward the exit.

He frowned. Were the guards in the kingdom so incompetent to be fooled by a moving crate?

He allowed the crate to move a few paces further before he decided to act.

He walked quietly behind the moving crate, waiting until it decided to stop moving before lifting the crate up entirely.

Surely enough, a tiny thief with his dinner hid under the crate.

Having been caught red handed, the boy turned and kicked Ashe in the shin. Perhaps if Ashe hadn't been wearing grieves and if the boy wasn't barefoot, would the attack had done anything, but alas, Ashe felt nothing and the boy hopped back on one leg, still standing but in pain.

Ashe looked at the boy silently, the boy definitely glaring back at him.

"My name is Ashe." Ashe said in the most polite way he knew how.

The boy did not reply, his arms crossed before his chest and his gaze drilling a hole in the tent wall.

Ashe tried a different tactic. "Did you enjoy the food here?"

"I didn't steal anything." The boy protested.

Ashe looked at the boy again. "What's that brown bag behind you?"

The boy turned his gaze away. "My parents didn't tell me to take anything."

Ashe frowned. "Where are your parents?"

The boy turned out to the wider camp, carefully picking up the leather satchel that contained Ashe's stolen dinner.

"Let's find your parents, shall we?" Ashe said gently.

The boy carefully carried the small packet of food with him, running forward as Ashe followed at a relatively small distance.

About three turns later, the boy turned to a small tent, with Ashe pausing just outside.

It had once been a military tent, though the mighty eagle of the empire had been defaced off the side, with large splatters of mud covering the insignia.

After a moment, Ashe followed the boy into the tent, the boy offering the food to an older woman.

At the sight of Ashe, the woman's face turned hostile.

"What are you doing?" She hissed. "This is our tent."

"I walked your son here. He was in my tent."

The woman snorted. "Alright then. You can leave now."

Ashe nodded. "Just one question. Are the rations provided insufficient?"

The woman glared at him. "Why the hell do you care to know about that?"

"Because the emperor has no intent to see you starve."

The woman sneered. "She brings war to all of us, and she doesn't want us to starve? What a joke."

"She did not set fire to Fhirdiad." Ashe replied. "That was the Church."

The woman snarled. "You don't know anything."

"General Ubert?" A soldier called from behind him.

Ashe turned to find one of his marksmen standing outside, his face surprised.

"It was you after all. I thought I recognized you." The man said. "What are you doing here?"

"I was escorting a lost child." Ashe offered as he turned around to the woman.

The woman now snarled back at him.

"Traitor." The woman hissed.

Ashe grimaced as he turned to leave. "My earlier comments stand. Emperor Edelgard cares for your wellbeing, whether you believe that or not."

The woman replied by turning her back to him, her arms pushing her children to a small corner of the wider tent.

"I don't think she believes you." The archer muttered to Ashe when the woman and her tent were out of earshot.

Ashe shook his head. "It is true, however, and I will not lie to these people."

The archer nodded. "Just a question. Was the child really lost?"

Ashe shook his head. "He had taken a plate of food from the command tent."

The archer glanced back at the tent. "Is that just a nice way to say he stole food?"

Ashe shook his head. "Steal would be the wrong word for it. I wasn't going to eat it, and the command tent was empty. Better it feeds a family rather than it go to waste."

The archer nodded. "I see. What were you and the woman fighting over?"

"From what I could see, they are suffering from a food shortage if there are children that are going to bed hungry. Emperor Edelgard would be furious if she found out."

The archer nodded. "I see."

"I'll investigate further, but my hope is that the warehouse that we are searching also contains provisions for the short term. We should not starve the people who have lost everything."

"What will you do if the food supplies aren't enough?" The archer asked as they turned down the main path of the camp.

"I'll go ask Garreg Mach and Enbarr for supplies. A ride down to Enbarr should take two weeks at most."

The archer nodded as he reached two other soldiers, both of whom sharply saluted Ashe as they went by.

"I'm afraid I must return to my patrol, General Ubert, but it was good to talk to you again."

Ashe nodded. "Very well. I wish you a good night."

"Thank you sir." The archer said as he quietly walked away with the two other men.

* * *

The walk back to Shambhala was a slow, quiet affair.

Spite hummed softly as he reached the monolith that loomed over the back field of Shambhala.

He glanced at the large rocks that circled the thousand year memorial, perhaps the personal project of a long dead overlord.

He briefly wondered what force could have brought the rocks up to their current vantage point. Perhaps a non-militarized version of their Titanus golems or the labour of a hundred men in unison.

He sighed as he sat down on his favourite stone, a well worn block that offered him vision of both Shambhala as well as the path that lead to the wider world.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, both remained silent.

Spite stared at the glassy surface of the stone and wondered to himself if the first acquaintance he had watched die was worth remembering, the man's body buried under a landslide a fortnight away from the closest outpost they had.

Perhaps it had been just been luck that he alone made the detour directly back to Shambhala, the rest having been wiped out by a surprise attack lead by Jeralt Eisner of the Knights of Seiros.

Spite sighed as he strained his mind for the names of his former comrades, frowning as he came up empty again and again, the man who clawed for his hand as he plunged to his doom all but forgotten, the terrified look on his face as he fell all Spite could remember of him.

"I'm getting too old for this." Spite muttered to himself, slowly rising from his rest.

He picked up his pace as he got closer to Shambhala, the prospect of a hot shower, possibly a shot of something strong, and potentially a good night of sleep for once hastening his pace.

It was when he opened the door to the back door did he feel something off.

It could indeed have been a trick of the light, for when Spite brought up an orb of fire to illuminate the poorly lit hallway, he found nothing out of the ordinary.

Still, Spite approached the stairs gingerly, a cold suspicion filling his heart as he jogged up the steps.

Much to his surprise, nothing had changed over on the trip up. The rusted steps that lead back to Shambhala were still the same as he had left it.

"Trick of the light." Spite muttered as he turned the corner toward his office door.

Which had been flung open, the darkness in his personal office like a gaping mouth.

With hands shaking, Spite reached over and turned on the lights to his office, the bulbs above flickering before revealing to him the destroyed nature of his office.

* * *

**Author's Note: **More Edits!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Namedrops and murder.

* * *

"So what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" Byleth asked softly as he shut the doors to the royal closet.

Hubert shook his head as he walked out of the royal bedroom, gesturing for Byleth to follow.

The two men walked for a while, their steps ending at the hall where Byleth had seen Emperor Ionius crown his daughter years prior.

The room was still well maintained, though the throne where Ionius had last been when Byleth had visited now sat empty, the man having been buried in his family plot.

"I suppose you haven't been here since the crowning ceremony." Hubert said quietly.

"Indeed, I have not." Byleth replied.

"There is much we have not told you over the last few months." Hubert began slowly, his face gauging for reaction on Byleth's face.

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"I was told you visited a certain Paul Hawthorne today." Hubert replied.

Byleth nodded. "That's right. What about him?"

"He's one of the few people who openly worked with Shambhala in the past."

Byleth turned his head, his face unreadable. "And you have not yet arrested him?"

"His list of crimes was longer than anyone else who played a role in the Insurrection of the Seven, but no, we have not arrested him."

"Why is that?" Byleth asked quietly.

"He's important to our plans in the future, to put it lightly."

Byleth nodded. "How did you meet him?"

"If you look deeply enough in Imperial actions in the last three decades, he's had a hand in a great number of them. As for my personal experience working with him, two incidents come to mind."

"Go on." Byleth replied.

"Firstly, he was involved with smuggling Kronya into Garreg Mach."

Byleth stood silent for a moment.

"Go on." Byleth replied, his voice stony.

"He assisted us in seizing the properties of the imperial nobles we sacked. That and ensuring none of the nobles in Enbarr escaped the city."

Byleth nodded before he turned to the throne. "So why do you think he can help us with Shambhala?"

"Because for once, we have no other answers. Over the years, we tortured the other plotters of the coup for answers, memories, any slip of the tongue on the part of Shambhala. All without anything to show for it."

"Did you torture your father?"

"No. I killed him in a moment of rage after your so called death. He spent his final moments begging for mercy. A fitting end for a disgusting animal."

Byleth nodded. "Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"

"Because the time wasn't right to tell you. And that we were still at war."

"Hubert, I am a grown man. I have watched my father die. If there is anything else you want to tell me, I will listen."

Hubert shook his head. "I have nothing more to say. You already knew about our role in your father's death, but had we known what Kronya had planned, any of us would have killed her long before she ever stepped foot in Garreg Mach."

Byleth nodded quietly. "I thank you for being honest with me. Good night Hubert."

Hubert watched the form of the professor turn away. "You too professor."

* * *

Spite scrunched up one of a half dozen reports that had been partially dismantled and tossed it aside.

He sighed as he reclined into his chair, one of the few things outside his locked drawer that had not been torn apart by the ransacking party.

"Lord Spite we have- what in the world?" A voice came in from the doorway.

"Odesse." Spite replied calmly. "My office was sacked while I went for a walk last night."

The lesser mage seemed stunned, though his eyes were steely.

"And before you ask, no, nothing of importance was stolen. I keep little of value in this office."

Odesse seemed to pause. "I would like to state that I had nothing to do with it."

"That is good to hear. However, it does not answer the question of who did it."

"Do you have any ideas?" Odesse asked.

"Odesse, my list of enemies is much longer than yours, and any of them could be behind this move."

Odesse frowned. "I was summoned here five years ago out of the blue, so pardon me if I'm oblivious to the politics of Shambhala."

"Why do you believe you were summoned?" Spite asked as he leaned back into his chair.

"I was of the belief that an opening appeared and Shambhala had no means to fill it."

Spite nodded. "Shortly before I was elevated to Overlord, my replacement for the ruling council was found in an incinerator. As for his replacement, they had mostly been sent into the field."

"Oh. And I was summoned to replace them then?"

"Correct." Spite replied.

Odesse glanced around the room as they fell into silence.

"I believe that Solon's faction was behind this little attack." Spite said when Odesse turned back to the desk.

"He's been dead five years."

"But his followers less so."

Odesse fell silent. "But why your office? Why now?"

"I don't know, and I simply do not care. They took nothing of value from this room."

Odesse nodded as a shout from the main base echoed throughout the base.

"What seems to be the issue?" Spite asked as both men turned to move to inspect the commotion.

"Boss!" A shout from the catwalk came. "There's been a murder!"

Spite exchanged a look with Odesse as the two rushed out to look for themselves.

* * *

Mortis had slept fitfully over the course of the night. A slight breeze along with the gaping hole in the side of the carriage meant that the death trap on wheels was not only cold and drafty, but also very loud.

When the sky began to lighten up, Mortis rose from her resting spot, wincing at the pain in her neck and back as she tested her limbs.

Despite the uncomfortable state of her so called resting position, Mortis rose to her feet and hopped out of the carriage.

The sky was still dark, though she could make out Yurius and the bandit girl across the poorly maintained road, their bodies hard at work digging what she presumed was a grave.

Mortis watched the pair silently with her arms crossed against her chest, still sitting within the ruined carriage.

It was only when the two figures got around to actually burying the dead did they notice Mortis watching them.

Yurius glanced at Mortis with a look that demanded she assist him.

Mortis replied by staring back at the scene with a quiet boredom, mentally noting the fact that the bandit girl gave her occasional glances, as if she was worried Mortis would make good on her threats.

Finally, Yurius stood up and jogged over to Mortis, his face hard.

"If you are already awake, you should at least offer to help us."

"Why should I? You never consulted me on if I wanted to dig a grave."

"I'm asking now."

"My answer is no. These filthy maggots don't deserve a grave."

Yurius grimaced as he turned around to the bandit. "We should."

"Says who? These corpses do us a greater service by being left out to rot."

"Mortis, I made the choice to help that girl bury her brother. I expect you to help."

"No."

"Is there is a reason why? Are you afraid of death or a little hard work?"

"Because these dogs don't deserve an honourable burial. That and we have a place to be."

"If you help us bury them, we could be on the road faster."

Mortis let out an angry hiss and rose to her feet. "Alright then Yurius. I'll help… dispose of these worms."

Yurius frowned. "Look, Mortis, why are you so rude when it comes to me?"

The woman shrugged as she stalked over to the bandit girl and the dead bodies.

Yurius saw the magic circle a moment too late.

"Mortis! Stop!"

Three flashes of lightning struck down, crashing into the lifeless corpses, the unbearable stench of both burning and decaying flesh filling the air.

"Mortis! That's enough! I didn't ask you to help like that!"

Mortis turned on Yurius, her voice frigid. "Shambhala is starving and you have the gall to hold up our mission over unburied corpses. If Spite was here, he would have you executed on the spot. Hell, he'd kill you personally."

Yurius glared back at Mortis. "Fine then. Do something productive with your time. We'll move out once the corpses are buried.

Mortis sneered and kicked one of the dead bodies that hadn't been zapped. "Fine then. Get to work."

* * *

She was in the dungeons again.

Somewhere deep inside, Edelgard knew she was dreaming, her will steeled as she prepared for the masked men who came in through the door.

A distant scream, one of her brothers, echoed through the wall.

Edelgard gritted her teeth and rose to her feet.

The door creaked open.

It wasn't one of the masked men, or Solon, or even the dead faces of her siblings.

It was Byleth.

Her knees cracked as she looked at the man she loved, the man who would have followed her to the ends of the world.

"Why did you kill him?" Byleth asked, his voice filled with pain and rage.

Edelgard opened her mouth to protest, but any words in her throat died. What could she say?

"You live a lie." Her own voice echoed.

Edelgard turned around, no longer within the dungeons of the imperial palace, but standing alone against the night sky.

"You lied to him, you killed his father. You live every day with him not realizing all this."

Edelgard watched as her past self, the towering Flame Emperor, watch her with the mask that Thale had fashioned, the eyes of her past self blank and empty.

"You brought Kronya into the academy." The Flame Emperor accused as an axe was raised at her.

"You stood by when she plunged that blade into Jeralt's back."

"There was nothing I could do!" Edelgard shouted.

The Flame Emperor laughed, a cold, empty sound. "You lie to him and to yourself. How terrible. And yet, he still chose you."

The ring on her hand seemed to become heavy as she glared at her false memory. "I love him."

"What tragedy! A man who loves his father's murderer!" The false Edelgard sneered as the mask shattered.

"You killed me!" Jeralt Eisner shouted as he advanced forward.

"I did not kill you!" Edelgard screamed back.

"El!" Byleth shouted.

Edelgard woke with a start, Byleth's face filling her vision.

"El." Byleth repeated, his eyes sunken as he brought Edelgard close.

"I." Edelgard started before Byleth silenced her with a hug.

"Not now. Breathe El."

"I."

"No El, you're safe here, nobody. Not Thale, not Adrasteia, not any of the others. None of them will hurt you. Not one."

Edelgard replied by bringing her arms around Byleth, burying her head into his chest, the steady beat of his heart easing the nightmare.

But the mask of the Flame Emperor still sneered at her in her mind.

"I'm sorry, Byleth. There's a great deal that I haven't told you."

Edelgard felt Byleth tighten his grip.

"I'm sorry." Edelgard whispered.

"El." Byleth whispered, his voice tickling her ear. "There's nothing to apologize for."

"But I-."

"Some things were meant to be, El. Hubert spoke to me after you went to sleep."

Edelgard felt a spike of something she couldn't identify inside. "I wanted to tell you."

Byleth pulled back slightly, his features visible again in the morning light. "I need you to remember again."

Edelgard felt her eyes widen. "Pardon?"

"Hubert has arranged another meeting with Hawthorne. At my request."

"What? Why?"

"Because he potentially has information that we would need."

Edelgard looked at Byleth before she nodded. "Alright then. When?"

"He'll find us when he's ready."

Edelgard nodded as she gently pushed Byleth back. "Pardon me while I dress."

Byleth nodded. "It's quite warm today, wear something cool."

Edelgard nodded. "Thank you dear."

Byleth stole a tiny kiss before he stepped out.

* * *

"One minute." Ingrid muttered as someone came over her covers.

A distant voice said something, but her vision flashed as bright sunlight blasted into her eyelids.

Ingrid frowned as she sat up, rubbing her eyes as her bunkmates gasped and looked away.

"Is there something wrong?" Ingrid asked as she rubbed her eyes.

"Your friend just stepped out. He's so handsome!"

Ingrid blinked. "Who? Sylvain? Ferdinand? Caspar?"

Her two roommates stared at her strangely. "It's General Ubert." One of the women said.

"Oh. Ashe." Ingrid said as she turned away from the two women.

"He brought food." One of the women blurted out.

Ingrid blinked. "What time is it?"

"The sun has been up for three hours now."

"What?" Ingrid shouted, shooting out of bed. "Oh no. We need to move out."

Both of her roommates stared as Ingrid changed frantically, her uniform crumpled over the previous night's sleep.

"Uhh. General Galatea?"

Tossing her blouse to the side, Ingrid hastily buttoned up a fresh one. "Yes?"

"Are you, erm, with General Ubert?"

Ingrid shook her head. "Yes, I am working with General Unbert to scout a part of the city."

"Oh. I see." The woman said, her face lined with disappointment.

Ingrid blinked as she slipped on her boots. "What did you mean by food?"

"He arrived here with three croissants."

"He looked so romantic. He just had this beautiful smile." The other woman sighed. "Why can't there just be a nice, handsome man who is willing to be there for you?"

Ingrid winced. "I don't know. Sorry, I must go."

"Alright then." One of the women giggled as Ingrid tossed her cloak over her shoulder.

Ashe smiled cheerfully as he raised a small sack of croissants. "Good morning Ingrid."

"Not a good morning. We've lost three hours of daylight."

The smile slipped off of Ashe's face as he nodded. "We should go."

Ingrid nodded as she turned to the camp stables. "I'll fly over. Shall we meet by the city square?"

Ashe nodded in turn. "Of course. I'll meet you there."

Ingrid nodded as she turned and ran.

Ashe glanced at the croissants in his hands before he turned to the city, his stride quick as he moved away from the tent.

* * *

"Lindy?" Lysithea called from outside his room, an ever present slice of cake in her hands.

"Do you think he went out somewhere?" Annette asked as she glanced at the door.

"This is Linhardt we are talking about." Lysithea scoffed.

"What seems to be the problem?" A voice at the end of the hall asked.

"Back to your room!" Lysithea exclaimed. "Manuela said clearly that you weren't supposed to leave until she got back!"

"Alright alright." The woman muttered as she turned away. "I'll head back."

"I'll walk you back!" Annette chirped as she turned away from Lysithea.

Lysithea sighed as she glanced down at the cake. "Oh what shall I do with you?"

The door beside her opened as Linhardt popped out. "Oh, good morning Lysithea."

"Lindy!" Lysithea replied happily. "I brought you cake!"

Linhardt turned around and grimaced. "Let's eat it in the dining hall."

Lysithea frowned before she made a deft turn, cleanly dodging past Linhardt and into the room.

"Didn't Mercedes clean your room yesterday?" Lysithea asked in slight awe.

"Yes, I lost multiple page numbers as a result of it. Is there a problem?"

"Your room is so messy I can't even put down this plate of cake!"

"Correct, which is why I suggested we eat the cake in the dining hall."

Lysithea pouted as she looked about the books in the room. "What is it that you are looking for?"

"This and that. One of the books I was reading talked about the health effects of various caviar found in Fodlan."

"Oh." Lysithea said as she looked at the books around her.

"For the most part, I'm rereading a number of these books. I figure I might have missed something before."

"Is there anything you missed?" Lysithea asked.

"No."

"Oh. That's disappointing." Lysithea said softly.

Linhardt nodded as Lysithea sat down on the bed. "If you want, you can eat the cake."

Lysithea shook her head. "Only after you eat a bite."

Linhardt sighed as he turned his head.

Lysithea smiled as she cut into the cake, drawing out a large bite with a fork. "Open wide Linhardt."

Linhardt compiled to Lysithea without complaint. "Oh. This is the cake you made for Felix isn't it?"

Lysithea raised an eyebrow. "How did you know?"

"Felix once threw it at me. Said you made it. I thought at the time that I had upset you badly enough for you to want to waste cake attacking me."

Lysithea looked horrified. "Felix threw a cake at you? My poor cake."

"It gave me the idea of the two pastries actually." Linhardt offered Lysithea as she took an even larger bite of cake.

Lysithea muttered something with her mouth full as she cut away a forkful of cake, the four points aimed at Linhardt.

"Did you give Felix the cake to throw at me?" Linhardt asked after finishing his second bite of cake.

"Yes." Lysithea said with a pout. "But I never thought he would actually throw it at someone!"

"I don't understand." Linhardt muttered with a yawn.

"It was a bribe. I bribed Felix with cake." Lysithea said.

Linhardt looked confused.

"Felix caught me stuffing my face with cake."

"As you do."

Lysithea turned the fork that was once aimed at Linhardt around, the cake disappearing into her mouth.

"So you bribed him with cake to do what? Throw more cake at me?"

Lysithea shook her head. "I told him he could do whatever he wanted with the cake so long as he didn't tell anyone that I stuffed my face with cake."

"Then how did he end up hitting me with cake when trying to hit Caspar?"

"I gave him suggestions of what he could do with the cake. I may have suggested throwing it at an unsuspecting victim."

"Yes, me."

"I'm sorry!"

"Felix said he was aiming for Caspar."

"What did Caspar do to annoy him?"

"I don't know. I was asleep through the entire thing. I woke up later with cake in my hair. Caspar simply told me what had happened."

Lysithea pouted as she inched the last forkful of cake at Linhardt. "Forgive me?"

Linhardt smiled as he let Lysithea funnel the slice of cake into his waiting lips.

* * *

After she woke up, Dorothea found herself drawn back to the square where she had met Ferdinand so many years prior.

"How much I wouldn't mind a drone to keep the other bugs away." Dorothea muttered to herself quietly.

"What other bugs?" A woman asked from behind her.

Dorothea turned back to find the red haired woman from two nights prior standing behind her, a large umbrella shielding her head as she walked forward.

"Oh, hello again." Dorothea said as she glanced about the relatively deserted street. "Out for a walk?"

"Mostly. I have the day off." The red haired woman said. "I'm headed to the market for something sweet."

"May I join you? I haven't truly felt safe since the last encounter."

The red haired woman nodded as she raised her umbrella.

"That reminds me, I never caught your name." Dorothea said as she walked with the woman."

"Monica. My name is Monica."

"Nice to meet you Monica, I'm-"

"Yes, General Dorothea Arnault. I'm aware."

Dorothea shook her head. "Dorothea is fine. I have little interest in the fame I have gathered over the last few years."

"I know what you mean." The other woman said as they entered the loud market. "Some days, I wonder what my life would have been like if I wasn't born where I was."

"Where were you born anyways?"

"South-west coast of the empire. A long ways away from pretty much anything."

Dorothea frowned. "I see. I was born in Enbarr. I grew up on the streets."

Monica didn't say anything, but she nodded in turn. "I'm curious about what life might have been for you. Even in my darkest moments I always had someone looking out for me."

"What do you mean?" Dorothea asked as they entered the market, leaning closer to hear the other woman's response.

"Someone has always wanted something from me. My name, my title, my identity."

"I can't say the same. I'm afraid of not being wanted."

Monica nodded as she turned to a nearby stall, her face unreadable. "Are there times where you would rather not be wanted?"

Dorothea snorted. "Roderigo Midas."

"That pest came after you too?" Monica asked, suddenly turning around, her face filled with disgust.

"Both me as well as another member of the Strike Force."

"He sent a small army to intercept me."

"How did you get away? Me and Ingrid had practically our entire class at our backs when he sent men after her, but I-"

"Outside intervention. Another group ran them off. Made sure I could get to Enbarr safely."

"Who was it? Mr. Hawthorne's men?"

Monica shook her head. "Mr. Hawthorne knew my father as a young man, but he had no direct involvement with the group that stopped Roderigo."

Dorothea frowned. "Then who was it?"

Monica shook her head. "I'd rather not say, if that's alright with you."

Dorothea frowned. "Bandits? The Church? A unit of Imperial Guards? Jeralt Eisner?"

Monica shook her head as she turned away. "Unfortunately, none of the four."

"A brazen beast?"

Monica laughed at that. "No, I'm afraid I wouldn't meet Hubert von Vestra until later."

"You met Hubert before?"

"Only briefly, and I'll be happy if I never have to see him again."

"He invokes that kind of reaction in people, I know."

"Especially if he's standing right behind you." Hubert said calmly from behind her.

"Hubie, what are you doing here?" Dorothea asked as she turned around, though she beamed at the sight of Bernadetta von Varley alongside Hubert von Vestra.

"Miss von Ochs, I would appreciate it if Mr Hawthorne could meet with the Professor and the Emperor today."

Monica frowned. "I don't believe that he's busy today. If I remember correctly, he should be in the Hawthorne Lodge."

"As this matter also includes you, I would like it if you also attended. It would save me the effort of hunting you down."

"Eh? Me? What does this have to do with me?"

"Because out of all of us, you had the most interaction with Shambhala."

"Oh." Monica whispered, turning a ghostly pale. "I see. I'll go with you then."

Hubert shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I still have some other business to attend to. Be present at the lodge at sunset."

The girl nodded as she curtsied, silent as the Minister of the Imperial Household walk away.

"What did Shambhala have to do with anything?" Dorothea asked when Hubert was out of earshot.

Monica grimaced as she turned away from Dorothea. "I'm afraid it's a long story, though I suspect that the emperor and her consort are both going to be disappointed with the answers I can present them."

"I'll respect that, but I want to be there at this meeting with Hubie, the professor, and Edie."

Monica nodded quietly as she turned back. "We should go. I have to inform Mr. Hawthorne of this."

Dorothea nodded as she followed Monica away from the market.

* * *

"Hello Paul." The man said as he made his way through the well cultivated garden.

"Hanneman." The older man replied as he turned away from the flowers he had been cultivating. "Miss Casagranda."

Hanneman nodded as he regarded the aged face of the crime lord. "It's been how many years?"

"If you still wish to call me friend, then the answer is too many. If not, then the answer is twenty one years."

"I appreciate what you did for me." Hanneman said quietly. "Though today is the first time I could express that in person."

Hawthorne nodded. "Is Miss Casagranda your wife?"

Manuela looked mildly offended. "No, I'm here on official business for the empire."

Hawthorne nodded. "So be it. What is it that you require from me?"

Hanneman shared a glance with Manuela. "We are looking for any books in your archive on blood reconstruction."

Hawthorne let out a slow sigh. "I see. Theory or practical purpose?"

Hanneman fell silent.

Hawthorne sighed. "I'll take that as the latter option. But may I ask why?"

"We are looking to potentially reversing the effects of blood reconstruction."

Hawthorne snorted. "Would you like a look at the books I possess about necromancy then? I'm sure you are aware that the most common result of blood reconstruction is a very painful death."

Hanneman shared a glance with Manuela. "No, we are not looking for anything about bringing the dead back to life."

"Why are you curious about this subject?" Hawthorne asked quietly after a moment of silence.

"Because there's someone out there who needs our help." Hanneman replied.

The two men exchanged hard looks before Hawthorne turned away, carefully pruning a small flower from a nearby plant.

"Would this have something to do with a Lysithea von Ordelia?" Hawthorne asked as he surveyed his handiwork.

Hanneman staggered back a step while Manuela gasped loudly.

"I see I am correct." Hawthorne replied quietly. "I was hoping this was all a poorly timed joke, but unfortunately not."

"Do you know anything about reversing the process?" Manuela asked.

"No. I don't." Hawthorne replied.

"Please. Someone's life is in the balance."

"I'm well aware of that fact, but I can't help you. I'm sorry."

"Then how did you know about Lysithea then?" Manuela shot back.

"Because I am aware of what has been done to her. That, as well as the fact that she may only have a few more years to live."

Hanneman glared at the older man. "I don't believe you understand what she's been through."

"What would I gain from lying to you about her?"

Hanneman and Manuela looked at each other, the two unspeaking as they came up blank.

"Paul." A voice echoed through the garden.

Hanneman and Manuela turned at the sight of the young woman arriving in the garden.

"The emperor requests a meeting at sunset." The young woman said as she stopped just before she noticed the other two people in the garden.

"Thank you for notifying me Monica." Hawthorne replied.

"Professor?" A voice from behind the woman called out.

Hanneman and Manuela turned and blinked at the sight of Dorothea.

"I thought it was you." Dorothea said softly. "What are you doing here in Enbarr?"

"We are here for work related to erm, Lysithea."

"There is no need for half truths, Hanneman. We are all here because of Shambhala, but we will talk later on that particular topic." Hawthorne said as he began to walk away. "At sunset, the emperor will arrive here, we will talk then."

"Of course." Hanneman said.

"Hanneman, Miss Casagranda, please use the facilities here. You must have travelled a great deal from wherever it was you were at."

"But we did not bring enough money-" Manuela protested feebly.

"It's on the house. Monica, please make the required preparations."

Monica nodded. "Yes, sir."

"I have much to ask you when the time comes." Hanneman said to Hawthorne as the man walked away.

"I look forward to it then."

* * *

Odesse was the first of the two men to reach the scene, the crowd hastily parting before him as Spite followed in his footsteps.

"Do we have an identification?" Odesse barked at one of the soldiers present.

"Fifteen year old Private Ryan."

"Damn. He was young." A soldier in the crowd muttered.

"Cause of death?" Spite asked as he stepped next to the Dark Mage.

"Can't tell. He's been killed at least three ways." The original soldier replied.

"Witnesses?"

"Main doors to the mess hall were locked. Someone put up cleaning signs so we couldn't get in."

"And how did you get in?" Spite asked, looking at the door. "Surely the doors would have been locked."

"The doors that lead to the catwalk system weren't locked. We got in through there."

"Naturally. I'm the only person in Shambhala with the keys to lock that set of doors." Spite replied.

The soldier glanced at the crowd before glancing at the overlord.

"Anyone check with the kitchen staff?" Spite asked.

"We did." Another soldier said. "They saw the cleaning signs around the main doors and figured that all soldiers would come down to the kitchens to get their food."

Spite looked at the butchered corpse. "So no witnesses."

The first soldier to speak looked at the body as well, though he turned and walked away hastily.

"Odesse, oversee a check of every soldier's room of potential weapons that could have been used to kill the private." Spite ordered.

"And what about you?"

"I'll be checking the various nooks and crannies within the base for potentially disposed weapons there."

Odesse nodded as he turned to the crowd. "Back to your quarters! Everyone not at their bunk when inspection comes will be presumed to have deserted!"

"Odesse." Spite added suddenly.

"Yes sir?"

"Make an exception for those soldiers who are in the outposts. We can search their quarters once their shifts are over. Send a runner to the defensive system."

"Oh. Right. What about the obelisk?"

"The last person to use the back door was myself. Nobody has gone past my office since."

Odesse nodded. "I'll get on to it."

"Odesse?"

"Yes sir?"

"Ensure emergency rations are distributed to the men. I don't want someone to miss something because they were hungry."

"Of course my lord."

* * *

Yurius wiped the sheen of sweat from his head as he finished burying the last bandit.

"Thank you for your help." The bandit girl said softly as she stood up from her position at the bottom of the shallow grave.

Yurius nodded as he climbed out of the ditch that had served as a makeshift grave for the bandits, reaching a hand back in to pull the bandit out.

They stood in the early sun for a while, Yurius turning his back to the bandit as he moved into the carriage.

"You mentioned you were hungry right?" Yurius asked when he turned around.

The girl nodded. "Yes, our harvests were barely enough to get by before the war, and then so much grain had to be taken for the militia when the war broke out."

"How long have you been a bandit?"

"I. Well, since the war began."

Yurius frowned. "You don't act like it."

"Sometimes we are needed in the village. Sometimes there's not enough food for everybody, so we have to make do with forest animals and gold from travellers."

Yurius frowned. "So what you are saying is that you are really just a poaching expedition?"

The girl frowned. "I don't want to put it like that."

"Your leader wasn't dressed for poaching." Mortis said from behind them.

"You and your ability to sneak up on people is disturbing." Yurius said as he turned around.

"Now that I think about it, none of you were well dressed for poaching. Your entire group were equipped with slow, melee weapons." Mortis observed as she stood over the bandit girl. "Hardly something meant for nimble little animals."

The girl flinched as Mortis tossed a large rabbit to the ground, the brown animal's face twisted in terror.

"Get your own knife." Mortis snapped as Yurius gave her a hopeful look.

"We would be done faster if you let me use your Athame."

"I'm not letting you touch my damn Athame." Mortis shot back as she turned away from the two. "Get your own model from Spite if you really want one."

The girl swallowed as she glanced at the rabbit on the ground, watching silently as Yurius began to skin the animal.

"I lied earlier." The bandit said after a moment of silence.

"About what?" Yurius asked.

"There's a count in this area that wants to make it seem like House Gloucester is incompetent. He wants the empire to make him the ruler of this region instead."

"What do you mean?" Yurius asked.

"A false flag attack." Mortis said. "Make it seem like there's a bandit problem here. Then use imperial troops to pacify the area, make himself look like the hero."

"How did you know that?" Yurius asked, glancing suspiciously at Mortis.

"The logical conclusion to such a plot. Steal credit for solving a problem that you yourself created. Discredit your enemy." Mortis shot back.

"So what do we do?" Yurius asked.

"Get someone to decapitate the head of the snake. Find this count that she mentioned and kill him." Mortis said as she leaned against a tree.

"You aren't going to help us?" The bandit girl asked.

"We have bigger issues we need to address elsewhere, so no."

Yurius frowned as he finished with the rabbit. "We can talk about this later, but now I think we should eat up and make our way to the next town."

"I agree." Mortis said as Yurius began a small fire.

* * *

The carriage back to Garreg Mach was lively as Maya gushed over the beautiful trees that lined the crisp road.

Ignatz Victor smiled as the sister of his best friend and sat back into his seat, content for a short while.

"How has my brother been?" Maya asked.

"He's bigger than ever." Ignatz replied as he joined Maya in looking at the tree line.

"Ignatz, what are we doing once we get to Garreg Mach?"

"There's a lot of work to do, so I hope you are willing to help."

Maya looked mildly offended. "Of course I'm willing to help! What kind of question is that?"

"A silly one on my part. Do pardon me."

Maya sighed as she leaned back into her seat. "Is there a reason we are out on the road so early?"

Ignatz nodded. "Yes. There's two towns relatively close to one another in this region. I was hoping that we could make it to the second town by the end of the day."

"Why are there two towns? It doesn't make sense. Wouldn't it have been better for them to build one big town?"

"One town was founded under imperial control, and another was under the rule of the alliance until recently."

"So there's a bridge we can cross?"

"Yes, they added a bridge for imperial soldiers to cross into former alliance territory quicker."

"Which town is closer to Garreg Mach?"

"Well, both towns share paths that go to Garreg Mach, but the town under imperial rule has two friends of ours that I want you to meet. It's also the slightly closer town of the two."

"Oh really?" Maya asked.

"Leonie and Lorenz. Also members of the Black Eagles Strike Force."

"Lorenz… Gloucester?" Maya asked.

"You know of him?" Ignatz asked as he looked up.

"But of course, he's quite famous. Being potentially the heir to the alliance and all."

"General Victor?" The driver asked.

"What seems to be the trouble?"

"There appears to have been a bandit attack up ahead."

"What?" Ignatz asked as he gripped his bow, suddenly wary of a potential ambush.

"I see two, no, three survivors."

Ignatz grimaced. "And their carriage?"

"Run off the road and no longer functional."

Ignatz glanced at the scene and grimaced. "Driver, assist the survivors. I will see to it that the area is secure."

Maya looked concerned as the carriage slowed to a crawl. "Alright then. I suppose it's our duty to help."

* * *

**AN: **Less editing was done for this chapter in comparison to the more recent ones, but still a few minor changes.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Conference Call

* * *

Ingrid winced as she staggered off her pegasus, the sun beating heavily against her head.

"Ashe?" Ingrid called out, wiping a sheen of sweat from her forehead.

Out of a nearby street, the silver haired man popped out of an alleyway, hurriedly jogging over to her.

Ingrid winced as she staggered a shaky step forward, her momentum stopped when Ashe caught her shoulder.

"Come to the shade." Ashe said gently as he helped her make an awkward quarter turn, their steps jointed weakly as she leaned back against the heavy wall.

"I'm fine now." Ingrid said.

"No you aren't." Ashe said as he splashed the contents of his canteen over her head, the lukewarm liquid helping little as Ingrid blinked the water out of her eyes. "It's far too warm for you to be wearing that much armour out in the sun."

"I'll be fine." Ingrid protested weakly.

"We both know that isn't true." Ashe replied firmly.

"Get me water. Please." Ingrid asked as the silvery blur that was Ashe fussed around.

"I will. But please, get some of this plate off. You'll collapse at this rate."

"Water." Ingrid repeated.

Ashe swore quietly as he pressed a open canteen to her lips. "Slow drinks Ingrid."

A grumble of protest escaped Ingrid as Ashe slowly fed her the contents of the canteen.

"Ashe?" Ingrid asked as her legs folded under her, her strength fading.

"Yes?"

"How long was I up in the air?"

"I lost count of the times you rose up. Did you see anything?"

"No. There was too much sun. It made for trying to look for anything impossible."

"Let's wait for the sun to come down before we try again. There's little point at this point to keep looking in the heat."

Ingrid grimaced as she folded her legs. "Ashe I-"

"Yes?"

"Could you get those croissants you mentioned earlier?"

"Yes. Of course." Ashe said as he fiddled around a bag around his midriff. "Here we are."

"Thank you." Ingrid said as she leaned back to the wall, eyes closed as she took a first bite.

* * *

"This looks cute on you." Bernadetta said cheerfully as the shopkeeper gave Hubert a dirty look.

"Right. How much?"

The shopkeeper glanced at Bernadetta before turning to Hubert. "Three hundred."

Hubert nodded as he took a coin out of his pouch, sliding the piece of metal over to the shopkeeper.

"How much for the thread?" Bernadetta asked.

"One hundred and fifty."

"Take it out of the change." Hubert said as the man slid back a coin of a fairly low denomination.

"Thank you." Bernadetta said with a smile as they turned to leave the shop.

Hubert sighed as he toyed with the handkerchief that Bernadetta had folded into his breast pocket.

"Is something wrong?" Bernadetta asked as they returned to the busy street.

"Just thinking about the meeting in the afternoon." Hubert replied.

"I see." Bernadetta said quietly.

"Do you want to come with me?"

"I do." Bernadetta said. "The war's not over. Not yet."

"What's this about a meeting?" A voice asked from behind them.

Bernadetta spun around and found an unfamiliar face staring back at her.

"Hubert?" Bernadetta asked nervously as she backed away from the stranger.

Hubert looked back. "Emile. What are you doing in Enbarr?"

Jeritza grimaced. "For the last time, my name is Jeritza."

"Emile, I asked you a question."

"I came to Enbarr to see the status of my scythe." Jeritza shot back.

"Erm, Hubert, do we know him?" Bernadetta asked nervously as she took a step back.

"He's the Death Knight. He lead our western front during the war." Hubert replied as he turned away from the blond man. "Come, Emile."

"Where are we going to?" Jeritza asked as he turned to face the fleeting back of Hubert.

Bernadetta glanced at Emile before glancing back at Hubert, who stood staring down Jeritza.

"We are headed to Hawthorne Lodge." Hubert sighed. "Sunset."

Emile frowned. "Why Hawthorne Lodge? What are we doing there?"

"We are seeking to work with the professor on the issue of Shambhala. For that, he must understand our past dealings with the group."

Emile nodded as he followed closely behind. "Is my presence required?"

"No. However, at the same time, we have all had our own run ins with the group outside large scale meetings. Your insight might prove useful."

Jeriza nodded. "Very well then. I will join you."

"We do have some time." Hubert said as he glanced around the street.

"Would you like to have something here?" Bernadetta asked Jeritza.

"A bite would not hurt." The blond man said as he followed Hubert's line of sight to a small cafe.

* * *

"I'm ready." Edelgard said as she joined Byleth in the imperial garden.

Byleth nodded as he rose to his feet, dusting off his trousers as he stood.

"Have you decided what you want to buy today?" Byleth asked quietly.

"I don't want anything, if I'm going to be honest."

"Is this about Hawthorne?" Byleth asked as he took Edelgard's hand.

"Yes."

"I won't push you on that topic. Anything you aren't comfortable with I-"

"No. I asked you to walk beside me on this path. Everything I know you deserve to know."

Byleth nodded. "And I thank you for that. However, I expect you to look forward to the future, not back at the past."

Edelgard nodded. "Thank you for that."

"Is there anywhere in particular you want to go?"

Edelgard shook her head. "I didn't go shopping as a little girl. I always had a closet to myself."

Byleth frowned. "I suppose we could go to the Kairos District."

"No!" Edelgard yelped.

Byleth blinked as Edelgard grasped his hand, her face panicked as her grip tightened to a vice.

"Please don't make me go there." Edelgard gasped.

Byleth nodded quietly. "Whatever you are comfortable with."

Edelgard swallowed. "I should not have reacted like that. That was unbecoming of an emperor."

"I'm told that the Maiden District has a number of shops." Byleth said.

Edelgard shook her head. "No. I need to-"

"No. El. Whatever it is that haunts you in the Kairos District, we will deal with it at a later date."

Edelgard blinked. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No. We will face your demons on your terms and you terms alone. There is no need to rush something unnecessary."

Edelgard nodded as Byleth took her hand. "If you aren't comfortable with being in Enbarr, we can head north to Garreg Mach."

Edelgard closed her eyes for a second as she paused. "I believe we should follow up on Hubert first before acting on any other issue."

Byleth frowned. "I have not seen him or heard of him since last night."

"I see." Edelgard said. "If we don't run into him, I'll check back at the palace when the day is over."

"That sounds like a good idea." Byleth said quietly as he ushered Edelgard into a waiting carriage.

* * *

"Is anyone hurt?" Ignatz asked as he approached the small fire on the side of the road.

Both of the women at the fire shook their heads, the taller woman tapping the cook on the shoulder as Ignatz approached.

The man seemed surprised at Ignatz's approach, turning quickly in surprise.

"You mindless idiot." The standing woman hissed as she snatched something from the man's hands. "You just turned the rabbit into charcoal."

The man turned hastily as he rose to his feet, muttering an apology to the woman who had spoken before he glanced at Ignatz.

"You were attacked by bandits?" Ignatz asked as he got close to the trio.

"Yes." The only male of the three replied. "We fought them off though."

Ignatz glanced at the shallow grave just beyond the campfire and nodded. "Are you alright though? I hope nobody was hurt."

"We are fine." The standing woman said as she tossed the charred rabbit away, her face lined with disgust. "The bandits were very poorly armed."

Ignatz glanced at the woman sitting down, nodding quietly as he glanced back at the carriage. "Room in the carriage might not be enough if you have multiple trunks. Is there any non-essentials you don't mind leaving behind?"

"We only carried a single trunk with us." The other man blurted out quickly. "And Mortis here can take over the reins of the carriage if need be, should space inside not be enough.

The standing woman shot the man a dangerous glare, but she nodded. "That is correct. Though I would much rather be inside the carriage."

Ignatz glanced over at the ruined carriage before he spoke. "The next town is only about a third of a day away, perhaps we can find you a replacement carriage there?"

The standing woman shared a glance with the man next to her before turning back with a nod. "Very well then, lead the way."

"Oh, I forgot to introduce myself." Ignatz realized as the woman kicked dirt over the small fire.

"Oh, yes. we forgot to introduce ourselves as well." The man said quietly.

"You dropped my name, though you forgot to mention your own." The woman shot back.

"I'm Ignatz Victor. Pleased to meet you all."

"I'm Evi." The woman on the ground offered shyly.

"Yurius there mentioned my name already." The other woman muttered as the man hauled a chest from the carriage.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch it the first time." Ignatz offered.

"My name is Mortis. The man with the chest is Yurius."

Ignatz nodded. "In the carriage is my friend's sister Maya."

"I was called?" Maya asked, popping out of the carriage.

"Not quite." Ignatz replied as he gestured to the woman standing next to him. "This is Mortis."

Mortis nodded quietly in greeting.

"Pardon me." Yurius mumbled as he passed Maya, dropping the trunk into the back of the carriage.

"Oh! Sorry! I didn't notice you." Maya yelped. "Is there anything I can help with?"

Yurius shook his head. "No, but thank you for the offer."

"We should get going." Ignatz said quietly, glancing about. "Sooner we can get into town, the sooner we can get this sorted out."

"Very well, let us go." Yurius said as Evi rose to her feet. "We ought to report the bandit attack to the authorities as soon as possible."

* * *

"Ham and bacon club." Jeritza said to the waiter as he turned back to Hubert fussing over Bernadetta.

"Cake." Bernadetta said.

"She means the cake sampler." Hubert translated helpfully for the waiter.

"Of course sir, and you?"

"Just a pot of tea, black."

"What kind of tea?"

"Crescent Moon."

"Of course. No pastries?"

"No. I can take some… cake, if need be."

"Of course sir."

"I thought you didn't like sweet things Hubert." Bernadetta said as the waiter turned around.

"I don't." Hubert replied without even looking at Bernadetta. "But I also dislike wasting food if you don't manage to finish your cake."

"I'll eat all the cake myself then!" Bernadetta shot back.

"We shall see." Hubert replied as he turned back to Jeritza. "So, Emile."

"For the last time. It's Jeritza." Jeritza hissed,

"Well, Emile. Why are you in Enbarr? Was the message Shamir sent not sufficient? Do you require additional guidance?"

Jeritza sneered at the suggestion. "No. The message was clear. However, Fleche said I was a poor administrator and took over."

"Really?" Hubert asked, amusement in his voice. "That is certainly amusing. And why did Fleche not keep you in Fort Merceus?"

"She said my armour scared children."

Hubert snorted. "It has a leering skull for a helmet. I believe that was the intention of the craftsmen who made it,"

"So where is the armour now?" Bernadetta asked curiously.

"I left it behind in Fort Merceus. It was too hot to wear back to Enbarr anyways."

"Did you bring your scythe?" Hubert asked.

"No. I parted ways with it when we shattered the Kingdom's West Army at the Rhodos Coast. I had it sent back to Enbarr for repairs."

"It was damaged in the battle?"

"Indeed. I slew six separate standard bearers over the course of the fighting."

"Who lead the army there?"

"Some nameless bishop."

Hubert nodded, "I see."

"Were those all the reasons you wanted to return to Enbarr?" Bernadetta asked. "You could have asked any of us to bring the scythe with us."

"Ladislava. I came to pay my respects to her."

Hubert nodded. "Oh."

"Her family has a mausoleum in the Thousand Rose graveyard."

"I'm aware of that." Hubert replied. "However, we have no relatives to release the body."

"If I remember correctly, one of her brothers followed Count Bergliez into exile."

"The former Count Bergliez has been stationed in Brigid for almost three years now, and will likely remain there until the day he dies. Still, our agents there report he's done very well for himself."

"Jeritza?" Bernadetta asked.

"Yes Bernadetta?"

"How did you know Lady Ladislava?"

"She requested a meeting with me when Edelgard was set to attend Garreg Mach. She requested that I watch over Edelgard while she was at the Officer's Academy."

"Which turned out to not be required. After all, we had the professor." Hubert said.

Jeritza frowned as a large sandwich was placed before him. "My concern for the future lies in the fact that two of our primary administrators were killed in the counterattack of Garreg Mach."

"I am aware of that fact." Hubert replied. "It may be some time before we can find talented replacements for generals Ladislava and Randolph, unless you have a suggestion in mind?"

Jeritza frowned as he took a bite out of his lunch.

"And don't include Fleche. We have confirmed her position as the Prefect of Fort Merceus."

Jeritza frowned as he put his sandwich down. "I don't know. Hawthorne perhaps?"

"Hawthorne hates leaving Enbarr. He hasn't left the city in years. Not since Brigid invaded the territory of House Ochs has he left the city."

Jeritza took another bite of his sandwich as Bernadetta swallowed a large bite of cake.

"Have our forces found anything on Gilbert Dominic?" Hubert asked, changing away from a stale topic.

"No. The current Lord Dominic has so far claimed ignorance to the fate of his brother." Jeritza replied.

"Do you believe him?" Hubert asked.

"Of course not. But we have no proof on the matter to disprove his claim."

"That is unfortunate." Hubert said as he glanced over to Bernadetta.

"Hmm?" Bernadetta asked with her mouth stuffed with cake.

"Bernadetta, please slow down." Hubert muttered as he took a long sip of tea.

"Cake. Delicious." Bernadetta replied, taking a sip of tea as she devoured the last slice of her cake.

"Minister von Vestra?" A voice asked.

"Yes Perkins?" Hubert replied as a nervous footman stepped close to the table.

"Her highness and the royal consort have been seen in the Maiden District."

"Hmm. That is convenient." Hubert said. "There is much we can do within the district."

Jerotza nodded as he gestured for a waiter to come forward.

"Will there be anything more my lord?" A nervous waiter blurted out as he approached the table, a frozen smile plastered on his face.

"No." Hubert said as he pulled a coin from his pocket. I believe this will cover our bill very well. Keep the change as a tip."

The waiter's eyes widened as he glanced at the coin before he bowed. "Is there anything else you need us to do?"

"Bring us a carriage to Maiden District." Hubert said coldly as he rose to his feet, Bernadetta and Jeritza rising after him as the waiter called for a valet.

* * *

"Any news from the murder investigation?" Spite asked from behind his desk as Odesse entered the shattered office.

"No, we found a great deal of contraband searching the rooms, but no murder weapon."

"I suspected as much." Spite replied.

"What should we do with the contraband?"

"Return it. I have no interest in what happens once a soldier's shift ends. If there's any problem regarding my soldiers regarding performance issues, I'll deal with that at a later date."

"Are you sure you don't want to see any of it?" Odesse asked.

"Odesse, I don't care about contraband. As soon as one batch is destroyed, someone wastes time making a new batch. Playing cards, tobacco, you name it. So long as there's a demand for it, someone is going to be there to supply it."

"Solon was very much against contraband, if my sources are correct."

"Solon was against a great deal of things, but he never took serious action against anything that he didn't like."

Odesse nodded. "I never knew the man. Everything I know of him is hearsay."

"Yes, you grew up in Shangri-la. Not here in Shambhala. You didn't know Solon."

"In my initial placement, I wasn't considered worthy of being sent to Shambhala. Yet, four years later, I get a summon out of the blue."

"An accident happened." Spite replied with a shrug. "But then again, many accidents happened."

Odesse glanced at the ruined door. "Spite, I don't want to know more. You scare me enough as is."

"I am told I am frightening sometimes. Sometimes it's directly to my face. Other times, I can see it that those around me are afraid."

Odesse took a small step back.

"You understand. Good."

Odesse glanced at the door. "Should I be worried?"

"No. Nobody in this base except for private Ryan's murderers should be afraid of me."

"Right. And do you have any idea who that might be?"

"I have my suspicions, Odesse, which is why I'm not worried."

"I don't understand."

"I don't need you to understand. This is in between me and them."

Odesse blinked as he glanced at the door. "Who do you think broke into your office?"

"The same group that murdered private Ryan." Spite replied.

"What makes you say that? I wouldn't think a break in would escalate into a murder so quickly."

Spite frowned. "You fail to understand the situation correctly."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I do not believe this break in was an attempt at a break in."

"You lost me."

"This little break in was a failed assassination attempt or a failed coup."

Odesse glanced at the door. "I don't understand."

"If someone came in to steal information, then there would be no need to smash down the door. Such an act would have alerted whoever was inside the room to their presence."

"That makes sense."

"Second, I noticed something with the unfortunate private's corpse."

"What do you mean?"

"The bloodstains around him seemed to be confined to a small part of the room. In other words, he did not attempt to flee when his murderers beat him to death."

"How is that possible?"

"Magic, fear, and obstacles."

"I don't follow."

"He could have been a victim of dark magic, which kept him in place even as he was savagely beaten, have been overcome with fear, or had other attackers block his escape routes. There is no shortage of things that could have frozen him in his tracks."

"How can you say that with such a straight face?"

"Because I'm asking myself how I would have killed him to get such a result. But alas, magic is unlikely to be the answer."

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm the only one capable of casting a spell powerful enough to freeze someone in place in Shambhala. The next person capable of casting such a spell would have been Mortis, who is a full day of travel away, and the next person after that would have to either be in Garreg Mach or Enbarr."

"What about the other two potential options then?"

"I suggested fear because someone in my youth was killed in a hazing gone wrong. He had stayed in a similar beating because he feared being scorned by his peers by admitting pain during the hazing."

"What happened in that case?"

"The ringleader was immolated alive. The rest of them were either exiled to Shangri-la or sent on executions disguised as missions."

"Did it solve the hazing problem?"

"No. Hazing just changed format. There was an uptick in friendly fire accidents in the years after on missions that went beyond the borders of Shambhala."

"So what changed?"

"The faction system died with Solon. Well, that would be wrong to say."

"What do you mean?"

"The faction system of the time died with Thersites."

"Who?"

"Solon's brother, who was killed in a duel when I was twenty five or so."

"Wait what?"

"It's a long story. Perhaps once this entire mess is over, I'll tell you."

"Boss!" A voice called from the hallway.

"Yes?" Spite asked.

"There appears to be a riot brewing. We need you down there."

Spite frowned. "Very well. It seems like I must interfere."

"Of course sir." Odesse said as he hurried to follow Spite.

* * *

"My emperor!" A voice called out as Edelgard and Byleth turned.

"Yes?" The royal consort asked as the man arrived at the small shop they had been surveying.

"A message for you. From Adrasteia."

Byleth exchanged a glance with Edelgard before he cracked the wax seal, his face blank as he read it.

"What does it say?" Edelgard asked.

"Something about a Hawthorne Lodge. Sunset. It was sent by Hubert."

"It's a very high end tavern and meeting place." Edelgard replied. "Does it contain any information on where in that place we are looking for?"

Byleth glanced at the paper and shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

"I see." Edelgard said. "I suppose we could try to get there early."

"How large is this lodge anyways?"

"It's a famous lodge. It was built with the intent of housing half of the nobility of the Empire during times of celebration."

"That's a lot of people."

Edelgard frowned. "It is much more than you are imagining. The lodge was built prior to the revolt of the nobles of the kingdom. With the nobles of the north, combined with their servant cadres, the lodge was massive."

"I see. Just how large is it?"

"Very. It's not uncommon for someone to get lost." Edelgard replied. "I certainly hope they left directions to where in the lodge they wanted us to go to.

Byleth nodded. "Let's get a move on, shall we? We cannot waste time in the event we are lost."

Edelgard nodded as she tied her hair back into a neat bun, dismissing the messenger with a slight flick of the wrist.

"Shall we be off?" Byleth asked.

"We should. Still, I cannot help but be concerned about where Hubert wanted the meeting to be at."

"Why not ask him?"

"Where is he?"

"Right behind you actually." Byleth offered.

Edelgard turned around.

"Hello Hubert." Edelgard said. "What are you doing here?"

"Buying thread. Bernadetta wanted to stop by a shop here."

"Hubert!" Bernadetta called from a short distance away. "Help me! Emile is being mean again!"

"Did I hear that correctly?" Byleth asked.

"Yes. That's odd. He's supposed to be at Fort Mercus." Edelgard replied.

Hubert staggered as Bernadetta ran into him, her arms appearing suddenly around his midsection.

"He's going to kill me!" Bernadetta screamed into Hubert's jacket, though Edelgard and Byleth could barely hear her.

"Even if I wanted to, I couldn't." Jeritza muttered as he followed in the girl's steps. "I'm still carrying about three thousand gold worth of silk and cloth."

"Paid for by me." Hubert added.

"It is good to see you Emile." Byleth said.

"My name is Jer- oh." Jeritza said, his annoyed rant cut short when he realized he stared down the emperor and royal consort. "It is good to see you as well."

"I see that you have made your way to Enbarr." Edelgard said. "It is my hope that your trip here went well."

"It was a quiet ride down to Enbarr. Is the Scythe of Sariel finished repairs?"

Edelgard shook her head. "I believe the scythe is in a smithy in this district, but I know little beyond that."

"It is in a smith in this region." Hubert added quickly. "I am unsure if it has fully completed repairs, but I can check on it's status."

"No need." Byleth replied. "We can go together."

"Very well then." Hubert replied. "Follow me."

* * *

The two guards on the bridge back to the main camp glanced nervously at Ashe as he approached their position.

"General Ubert, what are you doing back from the city so early?"

"Ingrid is not feeling well at the moment. It's very difficult to fly in the heat today." Ashe replied. "I would like some medicinal herbs."

One of the guards nodded. "Medical tent Severus has been open all morning. Check there?"

"Thank you for that." Ashe said as he stepped over the bridge. "Could you find a runner to fill our canteens?"

"Is river water fine? That's all that is present in the field."

"A weak ale in that case. Failing that, remind me to boil the water before drinking."

"Of course." The guard said as he waved a younger solider over, quietly relaying the order as Ashe jogged over the bridge.

"Medical tent Severus is the blue tent. Fourth from left." The older guard said as Ashe hurried away.

* * *

"When is Ignatz going to arrive here anyways?" Leonie asked as she split a log of firewood in half.

"Don't ask me. I don't have the slightest idea. And who is Ignatz anyways?" The town guard muttered as he picked up the last of the neatly split logs.

"I don't know either." Lorenz said as he planted his axe firmly into a nearby stump. "That reminds me. Have we learnt anything from the bandits?"

"Yes. They weren't big on being clean. They stank as if they hadn't bathed since the war broke out."

"Ahh." Lorenz replied, slightly pale.

"We managed to trace one of them to this town, but his family died of famine over the course of the war. With the lack of documentation, it's rather hard to determine when he might have turned bad."

"Anything else?"

"No military training from what we can see. They lacked tactics beyond the tried and true human wave attack."

"We can rule out deserters from a lord's private guard then. Or deserters from any other military faction."

"So what does that tell us?" Leonie asked as she joined the two men.

"Inexperienced fighters, potentially former farmers who had a bad harvest."

"How was the harvest here?" Leonie asked.

"The last harvest went very well actually, or so the mayor claimed. I'm surprised they have been committing banditry like this."

"That is very odd." Lorenz said. "Also, I see a carriage."

Leonie and the soldier glanced over at the road, a large carriage slowly approaching their position.

"That's Ignatz's carriage." Leonie said. "Don't recognize the driver though."

"She doesn't look like your average footman. Far too well dressed for it." Lorenz added.

"You're right." Leonie said as the carriage slowed to a stop before them, the carriage driver deftly hopping off the cart. "Yeah, that woman is not buying those boots on a carriage driver's salary."

"I'm not a carriage driver." The woman snarled with mild annoyance in her voice as the two carriage doors cracked open.

"Ignatz! I want cake!" A blonde girl shouted as she dragged a scruffy brunette out behind her. "I want to see my brother!"

"Ahh. So that's what Ralphael meant by his sister being like Lysithea." Lorenz said.

"I didn't think he meant it so literally." Leonie muttered. "One Lysithea von Ordelia is enough already."

The woman first off the carriage winced as she tested her limbs. "Our carriage was waylaid by bandits on the way here-"

"What?" Leonie exclaimed.

"I don't believe there might be a place to report that?" The woman asked.

"What happened?"

"We slaughtered them." Mortis replied as a magic seal flashed in her hand.

Leonie staggered back. "You are a mage?"

"Correct. I was in Enbarr before the war broke out."

"And you were travelling alone?" Lorenz asked as he watched another unfamiliar man exit the carriage.

"The man who just left the carriage is my travelling partner." The woman offered in turn.

The soldier glanced at the carriage before turning to the town. "I will escort you to the local constabulary. May I ask how many bandits attacked your carriage?"

"Not enough to overrun us."

"Were you driving the carriage?" Leonie asked.

"No. Our original driver was involved with the plot. He fled into the woods after the attack failed. Our carriage was put out of commission after the fighting."

"Your horses?" Lorenz asked

"Fled in the chaos."

Leonie nodded. "I suppose we will keep an eye out for the other bandits, if you are willing to make a sketch."

"How long will this take? I would rather not waste time in bandit infested woods."

Lorenz nodded. "I understand, but there is a significant garrison force due to arrive in this area soon. I would like for them to have a clear idea of who is a bandit in this region."

Mortis sighed as she turned away. "Very well then. Let's be quick with the whole thing. The sooner I can leave this place the better."

* * *

"Do you think lunch is done yet?" Raphael asked Alois as he hoisted a large sack of potatoes over his shoulder.

"Hard to say." Alois replied. "All meals these days are served in shifts. It's rather rare for all of us to have the luxury of eating together."

"I think we'll be lucky then!" Raphael laughed as he marched back to Garreg Mach."

"You think so?" Alois laughed as he kept pace with most of the men who walked slightly slower than the muscular giant that was Raphael.

"But of course!"

"I do like your resolve." Alois said approvingly as he continued his walk.

"Hey!" Raphael shouted excitedly at someone in the distance.

"Raphael? What's going on?"

"It's Linhardt!"

Alois glanced over his shoulder and found the other noble stunned at being discovered.

"Linhardt!" Alois called out. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for an exotic plant." Linhardt replied, sounding slightly defeated.

"You find it?"

"I'm afraid not. The plant is not only very rare, but seemingly seasonal as well."

"What is it?" Alois asked.

"Something called Agarthan apple. I found it in a book that's probably older than Garreg Mach itself."

"Nope. Never heard of it."

"The book said there used to be a copse of trees that was in the southern mountain range. I was hoping that we could find it here."

"You look tired." Alois said.

"I am. The book did say that an apple a day kept the doctor away somewhere."

"Is this apple really so mystical? Could it heal wounds?"

"I don't know." Linhardt replied. "I was hoping to find it here, but no luck."

"That is unfortunate." Alois said.

"Is lunch ready?" Raphael asked.

"I left some time ago, but I'm not sure if they managed to make it in the time since."

"I'm famine!" Raphael exclaimed.

"You mean famished." Linhardt corrected.

"Same thing!" Raphael exclaimed.

Linhardt sighed. "You and Caspar really like your food."

"How do you think he's doing up there?" Alois asked.

"Hopefully not getting into trouble again." Linhardt said with a sigh. "The last time he got too aggressive, well, the less said about that the better."

"Is Hubert really terrified of heights?" Alois asked.

"He's afraid of heights?" Raphael asked.

"Yes." Linhardt sighed. "At the time, I didn't know either."

"He was so funny!" Raphael laughed. "He kept shouting for Ingrid."

Alois glanced at the two younger men with concern on his face. "Is there something I'm missing?"

"Derdriu." Linhardt sighed. "Hubert was, erm, trapped at a high place with no way down."

"Ah. So he erm, became afraid?"

"Very."

"How did he get up there to begin with?"

"He was warped up."

"Ahh. Where was Ingrid?"

"Halfway across the town."

"Did she hear him?"

"Not until later, no."

"That is unfortunate."

"Very."

"Are you going to tell me more?"

"No."

"Very well then."

* * *

**AN: **Fixed a plot hole (Ingrid not having been left alone in Fhirdiad).


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Still no conference call.

* * *

"What the hell is going on?" Spite snapped as he kicked open one of the doors to the mess hall, an orb of dark magic in each palm.

The crowd fell silent as the overlord of Shambhala stormed in, his face a mask of cold rage.

"I asked you once. I will not ask again." Spite snarled as the formerly rioting soldiers staggered back, keenly looking to avoid being reduced to a bloodstain by their overlord.

"We were getting anxious about the situation with Thales." One of the men said finally, hastily taking his hand off the collar of another man's shirt.

"As am I, but I'm not involved in a mess hall dust up."

At his words and the ever present threat of a murderous overlord, the group dispersed quietly, perhaps ashamed of themselves, but more likely terrified of Shambhala's furious overlord.

"You. Stay." Spite ordered the man who had spoken.

The man froze in place as the other rioters fled in good order.

"What was the riot really about?" Spite asked as the orbs of dark magic disappeared from his hands, the arcane dissipating into the air.

"The emergency rations were rotten sir."

"What?" Spite spat, his tone both angry and exasperated. "Odesse. Get me a portion."

"Right away sir." Odesse spluttered as he turned tail and fled.

"What about the food was rotten?"

"All of it. The dried meat had gone bad, the crackers that were supposed to come with the meal had turned into crumble, and the chocolate chip cookie had been stolen from all of the meal kits."

"And instead of coming to me, you and the other men chose to riot."

"No sir. We were debating who might have killed the private, but things got very heated at the end."

Spite nodded as he glanced at the ruined nature of the mess hall. "Once Odesse gets back, I'll have him supervise the clean up. If the food really is rotten, I'll lift the state of emergency long enough to eat the food the cooking staff have prepared. In the meanwhile, I might as well conduct private Ryan's autopsy."

The soldier glanced at the faint bloodstains still present on the mess hall floor.

"I got an emergency ration!" Odesse shouted as he burst back into the room.

"Good." Spite replied as he placed the small box onto a nearby table.

Odesse exchanged a glance with the unfortunate soldier as Spite opened the meal.

"Yes. I understand your concerns now." Spite said as he turned away from the box, his face twisted in disgust. "Some idiot either placed the meat somewhere with water contact or whoever made the ration in the first place failed in a major way."

"Is it salvagable?" Odesse asked.

"No. The crackers with it have probably been dropped a half dozen times a day for the last three years. And someone stole the cookies."

"What does that mean?" Odesse asked.

"It means I have to speak with the kitchen staff after I perform the autopsy. Whoever made this meal better be dead, because that's the only way I can't hold them responsible for this debacle."

"Is there anything you want me to do?" Odesse asked.

"See to it that the results of the dust up are erased and oversee that the meal that the kitchen cooked is distributed to the base. Give them advance notice I will come by later to speak to them about the debacle that is the emergency rations."

"And where will you be?"

"The autopsy will be held in Vault November."

"Isn't there more room in Vault April?"

"Vault April isn't well suited for an autopsy. And I have no wish to accidentally get blood on the archive in there."

"And Vault November is different?"

"It's got considerably fewer valuable archives in it."

"I understand." Odesse said before turning to the soldier. "Toss out this debacle of a meal and inform the men to get to work. Sooner that the mess hall is clean the sooner we can eat."

"Yes sir." The soldier said as he turned to dispose of the rotten meal.

* * *

Yurius sighed as he threw himself onto the heavy bed that lay in the room, content to sleep with the two other men.

"Please. As a noble, it is my duty to treat commoners like you right." Lorenz said from his left, his voice slowly grating on Yurius's nerves.

Yurius toyed with the idea of murdering the annoying noble for a few long moments as he prattled on about injured feet.

"I need some fresh air." Yurius said quickly as he pushed himself out of the bed, hastily fleeing before Lorenz could get into the details of fragile foot bones.

"And I thought Will was bad." Yurius muttered as he stepped out of the tavern.

And smashed into Ignatz on the way in.

Yurius, being taller with a stronger build, staggered back.

Ignatz, being shorter with a slender build, sprawled onto the ground with a loud yelp.

"Oh. Sorry Ignatz. Are you alright?"

Ignatz laughed weakly from the ground. "My apologies, I didn't see you there."

Yurius nodded as he glanced back at the room above them. "Does erm, Lorenz usually talk about foot injuries?"

Ignatz laughed sheepishly as he staggered to his knees, quickly wiping away his glasses. "I've heard a mean joke or two about it, but no."

"Thank goodness." Yurius said as he helped Ignatz up. "If me or Mortis had to share a carriage with him, he'd be dead within an hour."

Ignatz laughed. "He can get annoying from time to time, but we have learnt to accept him."

Yurius hastily patted Ignatz on the shoulder as the smaller man got to his feet.

"Yurius, could I ask you a question?" Ignatz asked.

"But of course. What do you want to know?"

"What were you doing during the war?" Ignatz asked as he rubbed his neck. "It sounds like you and Mortis know each other well."

"We were part of a private guard company that guarded an important location." Mortis said from behind them. "Fairly boring work, but not affiliated with any of the kingdoms."

"How did the report go?" Yurius asked as he turned to his partner. "Does the town have any means to follow up on the bandits?"

"Not much was promised on that front. This town is severely lacking in manpower, and I've seen enough militia forces to know that most aren't even close to a professional fighting force."

"What should we do about the bandits then?" Ignatz asked.

"Killing them once you gather a sufficient force does tend to work. I believe the dead rarely come back to try to terrorize the living."

"I apologize for the fact that Mortis doesn't usually have a solution that doesn't involve wholesale slaughter." Yurius said quickly as Ignatz took a small step back from the woman. "Rest assured, perhaps we can find help in Myrddin or Garreg Mach?"

Ignatz frowned. "That's a good idea. The others mentioned that Edelgard herself is coming to Garreg Mach in the near future for a state visit."

Yurius exchanged a wary glance with Mortis, though her face remained blank.

"That's good to know." Mortis said quietly. "There's a fairly significant bandit population in this region from the looks of it."

Ignatz nodded. "I know, but from what I've seen, most bandits are people who would otherwise have gone hungry if they didn't steal."

"Yes, and that is why your average bandit is an incompetent chump." Mortis replied.

"Not all bandits are incompetent though." Ignatz replied. "I know of a bandit who stole a Relic weapon and captured a fortress."

"And how did you get to know of this?" Mortis asked, though her tone was less amused and much more serious than what Yurius might have expected.

"The professor. He lead an assault on the bandits. Took back the Tower of Black Winds from the bandits after combat."

Mortis didn't say anything, but Yurius could feel the question forming inside the woman's head.

"Oh. That's right. You probably don't know who he is. The professor is Byleth, the royal consort to the emperor."

Yurius swallowed as he glanced at Mortis again, the usually calm mage's hands firmly clenched as she turned away from the other man. "I see."

"He was so brilliant on the battlefield." Ignatz added unhelpfully. "He was really impressive. I learned a lot from his lectures in Garreg Mach."

Mortis turned back, her eyes cold, though her hands were no longer clenched. "That's good to hear."

Yurius felt an internal wince as he heard the forced sweetness inside the woman's voice. "Mortis, would you like to come to the local market? I want to see if there's anything we can eat here."

Mortis nodded. "That's reasonable. You did set our breakfast on fire."

"That's my fault. Sorry." Ignatz spluttered.

"No. It's his fault. He should have finished cooking the damn rabbit before he turned to talk to you."

"Look. I'm sorry alright?" Yurius shot back.

"Whatever. I'll collect some money before we head out."

"Oh no!" Ignatz exclaimed.

"What's wrong?" Yurius asked as the turned to the shorter man.

"I forgot to give Maya spending money."

"Unfortunate." Yurius said as he turned back to Mortis. "If you don't mind, could you get some more money for him?"

"It's nothing. I'll go upstairs myself."

"Lorenz is talking to himself about foot injuries." Yurius reminded him.

"Ah. Perhaps not then."

Mortis sighed as she pushed back her hairline. "Alright then. Is six hundred gold going to be enough?"

"More than enough. I don't believe Maya can spend so much money in a short while."

Mortis scoffed. "We shall see once we meet her. Never underestimate a woman's urge to spend."

"Alright then. We'll see you outside when you have the money." Yurius offered as Mortis turned to the stairs.

* * *

Byleth grimaced at the small, moss covered structure that they stood before.

"This is the Ladislava plot?" Jeritza asked as he looked over the mausoleum, clearly disappointed.

"I thought it would be bigger." Bernadetta said quietly as she stood quietly behind the main group. "And in the sun."

"She was born to a merchant family." Hubert said from his position behind the kneeling Edelgard, his face lined with a characteristic frown. "Lady Ladislava was the first person in her family to serve the empire as a soldier for three generations."

"It seems they have come under hard times." Jeritza said as he approached the structure, his arms firmly crossed around his midsection. "I doubt anyone has come here since those pines were planted."

"I came here once before." Hubert said. "Though I was only here for a few short minutes."

"Why was that?" Bernadetta asked.

"I had some business to discuss with Lady Ladislava. She suggested this place because it was out of the way and out of the sun."

"Did this have something to do with me?" Edelgard asked as she rose to her feet, her face stony.

"Naturally." Hubert replied.

"What was it about?"

"Two bishops under House Varley had been caught discussing something regarding one of your siblings. I was asking if they had been dealt with and if they had posed a threat to you at any point."

"Was there?" Edelgard asked as Byleth tensed.

"No on both counts. Adrastea personally executed them before the assembled seven. I was told they had suffered cruel, painful deaths at his hand."

Bernadetta winced.

"I assure you. You don't wish to know what she told me on the subject." Hubert said as he turned to Bernadetta.

"And what did you do?" Edelgard asked Hubert. "I know you well enough to guess that a simple execution will not satisfy you."

Hubert chuckled. "Very true, Lady Edelgard. I let Mr. Hawthorne know, and he acted accordingly."

"What happened?" Byleth asked as he crossed his arms, his stance serious.

"The congregations of the Black Forest and North Coldstream found their local parishes burned to the ground overnight." Hubert replied in a tone most would use to describe the weather.

"I see." Byleth said as his face turned tight. "Was anyone hurt?"

"A few guards had their throats cut, but Hawthorne is more a thief than a butcher. I suspect that he coordinated the attack with House Bergliez, for the guards along the roads reported nothing out of the ordinary."

"Whatever the case, we can get Hawthorne himself to elaborate later." Jeritza said as he turned to leave the graveyard.

"The sun is starting to fall." Byleth observed as he glanced away from the well hidden grave. "We should get going for the meeting."

"Very well." Hubert said as he turned from the grave. "Let us be quick. It would reflect poorly on Lady Edelgard if we arrived late to a meeting we called ourselves."

* * *

When Dorothea arrived to the meeting room, she found it surprisingly large.

In contrast to the secretive room that served as meeting point in the palace, the meeting room she had been led into was bright and open, the long windows that reached the floor engulfing the room in golden light.

"Ignatz is going to love this." Dorothea said as she slowly marvelled the large room.

"It is a beautiful place." Hawthorne said from behind her.

Dorothea spun around as she heard the voice of the older man, her hand flying to her chest.

"I did not mean to startle you, my lady. Please accept my apologies for that."

"I'm sorry, I just found this to be a beautiful place."

"It is. It's one of the oldest rooms in the entire lodge."

"Really?"

"Before the incident with the northern lords, before our empire began to crumble, this room was meant as a vision of triumph."

"This room was there before the kingdom chose to revolt?" Dorothea asked as she turned back on the room, her eyes trying to find any sign of the old empire on the walls.

"There's a great deal of artwork that I have kept in safekeeping that would have once lined the walls."

"Our friend Ignatz would love to see those."

"Many people would, but I'm perhaps the only person in the empire who has seen the whole collection."

"What collection?"

"The Ball of Celebration, I trust you've heard of it?"

Dorothea stared blankly at the man.

"I suppose not. But the Ball of Celebration is one of a kind, so perhaps it's excusable."

"What kind of ball are we talking about?"

"The last ball before the old empire collapsed. The only painting that depicts the entire empire at its full might."

"Such a painting exists?"

"It does. The unfortunate thing is that there was only one chance to paint it. The nobles of the Kingdom revolted shortly before the painting was finished, and there hasn't been any hope of creating a similar painting since."

"That's rather tragic isn't it?" Dorothea asked.

"Indeed, but perhaps one day it could be made once more. After all, is the empire not whole once more?"

"I suppose so." Dorothea replied. "But there is still much we have yet to do."

"That is true, but it is also the reason that we are all gathered here today."

"Yes it is." Monica said from the doorway. "Shamir Nevrand is calling on you, Mr. Hawthorne, were you expecting her?"

"Hmm. Did you invite her Miss Arnault?"

"No. I haven't seen her since yesterday." Dorothea replied. "Why is she here?"

"Only one way to find out then. Monica, do let her in, and prepare for some tea."

* * *

"This is Spite. Conducting autopsy three in the year 1185. The deceased is sixteen year old private Ryan."

Spite sighed as he finished the opening line of the report, closing the plain folder that contained the report as he snapped on thin gloves.

"The deceased is a young man of pure Agarthan ancestry. Our records indicate that he was raised in Shangri-la until he was summoned earlier this year for active field placements. Our archives state that he was summoned on the fourth of January, and arrived in the 8th of March."

"From external observations, the private suffered at least three different sets of wounds. One blunt, likely a handheld club of some form, two sets of sharp wounds. Likely handheld blades or pocket knives. Small, quick, nasty things."

"Why are you talking to yourself?" A voice asked from the entrance to the vault.

"Tradition of autopsies, Odesse. The woman who trained me at this particular art claimed it dated back to the old empire."

"Right. I've come to report that the mess hall has been cleaned and breakfast is being served now."

"Very good." Spite replied. "I will head up when this is finished."

"Why did the empire of old explain their findings out loud?"

"I was told at the time that they had devices that could record speech. Saved them the effort of writing all their findings down I suppose."

"Another thing lost with the old empire."

"Indeed. The old war cost our people dearly. So many lives lost to our stupidity."

"What do you was stupid about the old war?" Odesse asked as Spite scribbled some more notes down, shutting the folder quietly as he tossed away his gloves.

"Not killing to Fell Star in a single blow. We had one chance to end the war with a swift strike. And we blew it."

"Was the old war that much of a failure?"

"They built a damn church over the ruins of the old capital. I think that's enough of a failure on its own. And then we have the fact that only Shambhala and Shangri-la have survived to this day."

"Oh. I-" Odesse replied as he sneezed. "Sorry, can we continue this somewhere warmer?"

"It's colder down here than the main base." Spite replied as he turned to the doorway to the underground vault. "We should talk again once we get to the main levels of the base."

"Of course." Odesse said as he glanced at the corpse behind him. "What will you do with him?"

"I'll remove his heart later. But only when his killers have been brought down."

"What about the rest of his body? And why are you taking out his heart?"

"The rest of his body is worthless. Only our hearts are of value, and whatever value they do have is highly limited and situational."

"Erm, I don't quite understand." Odesse said quietly.

"Remember that our main difference from the savages who rule the surface world is the fact that we have hearts of stone." Spite explained as he turned around, his voice annoyed. "But this is a double edge, for when a soldier falls in combat in the outside world, we must remove his heart to ensure that our enemies never find out his origin."

"But the private did not die in combat."

"Yes, but that is where the situational value I mentioned earlier comes in." Spite said coldly. "Our civilization has few resources that it will not find good purpose for."

"Like what?" Odesse asked.

"The very fact that you do not know is a gift. Treasure that you don't have to know."

"Alright then. I'll not ask again." Odesse offered as Spite opened the door to the vault, gesturing for him to enter the main corridors of Shambhala.

* * *

The armour plates Ashe carried raised numerous eyebrows as he hurried through the medical wing of the camp.

He was fortunate. Ingrid's tent was far closer to the city than the tent he shared with Felix and Sylvain.

It was a simple thing, made of a plain, undyed canvas, with the eagle of the empire proudly emblazoned on one side.

Ashe paused briefly when he slipped into the tent, drops of sweat leaking into his eyes as he tried to find Ingrid's armour rack.

When a drop of sweat leaked into his eye, Ashe gasped and dropped Ingrid's armour plates on the nearest bedroll, groping frantically at his face as he tried to block out the pain.

A yelp of complaint rose up as the armour plates crashed into the bedroom, followed by a long, pale arm.

"Oh." Ashe croaked as one of Ingrid's roommates staggered to her feet, the dark haired woman blinking sleep out of her eyes.

"General Ubert, just what exactly are you doing here?"

"Ingrid wore too much armour while riding today." Ashe offered. "I'm here to grab a change of clothes for her."

The woman winced and nodded her head. "Ingrid's trunk is the one on the right."

"Thank you." Ashe said quickly.

"Still, I'm worried for her. She takes very poor care of herself."

Ashe blinked. "What do you mean?"

"If it had been any of us who were in the air, we wouldn't be wearing armour at all."

"Well, I suppose she takes the idea of being a knight very seriously."

"Too literally in this case." The woman said with a slight shake of the head. "If she insists of going on a flight, make sure she at least sees a medic first."

"I'll remember to do that." Ashe said as he quickly fussed through her trunk. "Should I bring her a light jacket as well as a blouse?"

"Couldn't hurt, but do remember to have her see a doctor before anything else."

"I'll do that." Ashe said as he hurriedly gathered a neat set of clothing in his arms.

"You go on ahead, General, I'll make sure her armour ends up on her armour rack."

"Thank you so much." Ashe said as he darted out of the tent.

* * *

"One more word about cake and I'll stab you." Felix warned his friend as he downed a swig of his canteen.

"That's fine. There's the explosion song too." Sylvain replied cheerfully.

"In that case, one more word from you and I'll feed you to a bear. Feet first."

"Are you jealous that I have a beautiful singing voice?" Sylvain teased his friend.

"The next time I have a mission, remind me to dump you in the nearest dungeon."

"Why? Is there a fair maiden inside that needs rescuing?"

"Yes. Inside is a fair, silver haired maiden with a big heart and a love for strong, handsome men."

Sylvain rolled his eyes and sighed before he suddenly tensed.

"Wait a minute! That's what I said about Ashe when we met him!"

"Yes, I know. First you started with Ingrid's grandmother, then you moved onto scarecrows,and then boys younger than you. You really are getting desperate Sylvain."

"I am not desperate!" Sylvain shot back. "How was I supposed to know he was a guy?"

"You could have asked him." Felix sneered. "You know, about how his eyes captured your soul? How his smile could light up a church? How you would make him the happiest girl in Fodlan?"

"I'm not attracted to him, for the last time!" Sylvain shouted. "And he's certainly not interested in me either!"

"Yes, who wants you around when he can spend all day with Ingrid?" Felix asked with a small chuckle. "They are all alone in Fhirdiad, with nobody watching them."

A moment of horror seemed to dawn on Sylvain as he glanced behind him, his hand firmly grasping the reins to his horse.

"We still have bandits to kill." Felix warned Sylvain as he punched his friend on the shoulder. "Bandits you agreed to help kill."

Sylvain swallowed slowly before he nudged his horse forward. "Fine then. Let's be quick. I'm not going to let Ashe and Ingrid be alone much longer."

* * *

"Dad?" Flayn asked as she sat close to him in the back of the small carriage they had rented.

"Yes? Flayn?"

"Does uncle Indech like fish?"

"He's sleeping under a lake. I don't believe he has anything else to eat."

Flayn giggled at her father's words. "Tell me about you and mother again. From the very beginning."

"But you already know the story." Seteth chided.

"Can I listen to it again?" Flayn asked her father pleadingly.

Seteth sighed as he admitted defeat. "Very well then."

"I was in Enbarr at the time. I was young, hurt, angry."

Flayn waited for the inevitable silence to end and Seteth continued.

"One day, perhaps, I'll show you the exact spot where I met her. When it's safe again."

"What was it like then?"

"A church. I haven't been back to Enbarr since her death."

"Is it possible that-?"

"I'm afraid so. I don't know if it's been torn down or not."

Flayn whimpered as she slowly leaned into her father. "Is it selfish of me to want to see her again?"

Seteth swallowed as he shook his head. "No. I've wanted to see her again every day for the past thousand years."

Flayn felt a tear drop from her face. "Do you think the professor will end the war?"

Seteth grimaced as he turned back out the window. "I don't know. Even after all this time, I don't know what will happen in regards to the war."

Flayn swallowed. "If the war is over, can we visit mother?"

Seteth shook his head. "I'm sorry Flayn, but I can't risk losing you. Especially with what happened last time."

"Oh." Flayn whispered as she laid her head on her father's lap. "I shouldn't have asked then."

Seteth shook his head. "I'm sorry, but as a father, I must see to your survival first and foremost. Even if the professor is a great man, I cannot help but feel like he might be murdered by those who slither in the dark."

Flayn whimpered as she closed her eyes. "If we see him again."

"We'll see when the time to cross that bridge comes." Seteth promised as Flayn leaned closer into her father's lap. "Until then, let's dream of a brighter Fodlan."

* * *

The sound of choked crying filled Lysithea with a certain fear as she glanced around the tower that she found oh so peaceful on hectic afternoons.

She paused for a moment as she thought of the ghost stories Mercedes loved to tell so much.

A moment and another sob later, Lysithea fled through the tower to find Linhardt.

Her favourite pillow and sweets maker was, as usual, in his study, ever buried in a pile of books.

"Lindy!" Lysithea called out as she scrambled into his room, panting as she rushed through his open door.

"What's wrong?" Linhardt asked as he glanced up from his book, his face serious, if not sleepy.

"There's a ghost in the tower!"

"Lovely." Linhardt replied. "What is it that you want to do?"

"What should we do?" Lysithea asked as she glanced behind her, content with the knowledge that a ghost wasn't chasing her down the tower.

"Let the ghost stay there?" Linhardt asked as he blinked hastily. "It's not like the ghost is actively trying to hurt anyone."

Lysithea gave Linhardt a dirty look as he sighed. "Alright. Fine then. Let's confront this ghost."

It was a slow walk back to the top of the tower, with Lysithea smiling as a gust of wind blew cold, fresh air into her face.

"Ahh. That feels so nice." Lysithea sighed happily.

Linhardt turned around, what appeared to be a letter plastered to his face.

"Pardon me while I read this." Linhardt said as he flipped the folded piece of paper open.

A yelp from the top of the flight of stairs caught Lysithea's attention as she realized the ghost had seen them.

Without another word, Lysithea bolted down the stairs, trying desperately to drag Linhardt down with her.

Instead, the taller man remained planted firmly in place, refusing to budge an inch as Lysithea turned again to desperately pull at her.

"The ghost is coming!" Lysithea cried out in panic.

"I'm not sure why the ghost would be reading through Annette's personal mail." Linhardt replied as he turned away from the note, his face mildly confused. "That being said, we cannot dismiss the assumption that it's simply a burglar who got lost."

"Is it likely to be a burglar?" Lysithea asked.

"No. It sounds like Annette." Linhardt replied.

"Annette!" Lysithea shouted above. "Are you alright up there?"

The voice at the top of the tower was silent now, and Linhardt sighed as he headed up the stairs.

"Please don't come closer." Annette gasped as they reached the top flight of the stairs.

"Are you alright?" Linhardt asked.

"Do you need us to call Mercedes?" Lysithea tried desperately.

A whimper escaped Annette as she mumbled a reply either of them could hear.

"If you hurt yourself, we can help you down to the infirmary." Linhardt offered helpfully.

"I'm fine!" Annette laughed weakly, though Lysithea could tell the lie in her words. "Nothing to worry about!"

"Would you like your father's birthday letter back?" Linhardt asked as Lysithea took a step forward.

A cry of horror escaped the orange haired missile that leapt out of the open doorway at the top of the tower, the girl scrambling at Linhardt.

Linhardt however, had seen the sudden attack coming, and raised his arm with the letter high, with the letter now firmly out of reach for Annette.

It was only when Annette turned to look up at the letter did Lysithea notice the red lines that marked Annette's eyes.

"So you were crying after all." Linhardt said as he lowered the letter back into reach for Annette, who snatched the paper quickly from his hands.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you." Annette said quietly, as if deflated by being caught.

"Why were you reading birthday letters?" Linhardt asked quietly.

"I-" Annette started, her voice shaking, her face like a stunned deer.

"Lindy, we should go." Lysithea warned.

Linhardt looked as though he wished to protest, but nodded. "Annette, if at any time you want to talk to us, we are all here for you."

Annette swallowed as she nodded. "Thank you."

Lysithea began to drag Linhardt away in ernest, the taller man coming down the stairs slowly as he gave Annette one last glance over his shoulder.

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Shamir asked as she entered the hall, her eyes glaring down Dorothea.

"I ran into Monica earlier today." Dorothea replied as she gestured to the red haired girl. "We ran into Hubie."

"Yes, I was told there would be a meeting here." Shamir replied. "Still, it is odd for the rest of them to be late."

"Do we have any idea just who is coming?" Monica asked. "I could ask the cooks to prepare food in advance if we know the guest list."

"We are not here to have dinner." Shamir said coldly. "We are here to have a serious meeting."

"That is true on the part about the meeting. Still, I would be a terrible host to not offer some light refreshments." Hawthorne replied as he sat down, his hands folded neatly before him.

"Water." Shamir replied.

"Is there anything in the hotel that you wouldn't mind serving up?"

"We have a great deal of alcohol, not to mention fruit and simple water based drinks."

"We need everyone to be sober for this meeting." Shamir replied quickly.

"That's true." Dorothea said. "Water for me as well."

"I'll need something stronger." Monica said quietly.

"Your testimony will be needed early and often, so I'm afraid I must deny you that." Hawthorne replied. "If you do need it, I will offer you a shot of whiskey before the meeting to calm your nerves."

"That would be nice." Monica said as she pulled a chair away from the nearest table.

"I suppose I must ask the others if they want anything to drink." Hawthorne said as he too, pulled out a chair.

"The others?" Shamir asked.

"Hanneman von Essar and Manuela Casagranda both checked in earlier today." Monica offered helpfully.

"They should be in Garreg Mach." Shamir said as she turned to the window, her eyes focusing on the slowly settling sun. "Why are they down here in Enbarr?"

"Research purposes." Hannemann said as he entered the room. "As for drinks, lock up your cellar. Manuela will drink it dry or until she collapses, whichever comes first."

Hawthorne sighed. "Right. I forgot she was here for a moment. Almost bankrupted me once."

"Was this back when she sang for the opera?" Dorothea asked.

"Yes. It was very interesting to come back to Enbarr to find two of my restaurants having run dry of liquor seemingly overnight." Hawthorne replied with a shake of the head. "Even worse was when the opera refused to pay."

"She drank two bars dry?" Dorothea asked, stunned by the man's words.

"No. She spurned a legion of fans while performing at a restaurant that I owned. They collectively drank the entire bar's supply of alcohol, as well as the supply of a second bar I owned close by."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Dorothea asked.

"Not when it turned out that two thirds of them could not afford to pay their bill. The opera claimed that they were not responsible for the debacle, which meant I had to pay out of pocket for the penniless bastards who had gorged themselves on my alcohol."

"You were the owner of that bar?" Manuela asked as she walked into the room, her hair messy and undone.

"Yes, Miss Casagranda, I was." Hawthorne replied. "I was very unhappy to find that three weeks worth of my most expensive alcohol had been practically given away for free."

"I apologize for that."

"Bah. It was in the past. I've moved on from simple tavern running."

The words hung in the air for a long, silent moment.

"Right." Manuela said as she too, sat down. "I'd like a glass or orange juice, if you don't mind."

"Pulp?' Hawthorne asked.

"None. I prefer a long, clean drink."

"Very well then." Hawthorne said as he glanced at the setting sun again. "When the rest of them arrive, we should be ready to begin."

"Who else is coming?" Hannemann asked Shamir as he pulled aside a chair.

"The professor, Hubert, Edelgard, and Bernadetta are the most likely candidates." Shamir replied.

"We saw Hubie and Bernie earlier." Dorothea confirmed. "They were out shopping."

"As I understand it, this entire meeting is for the benefit of this professor." Hawthorne said. "Tell me, just exactly what does he know?"

"He's the son of Jeralt Eisner." Shamir replied.

"I see." Hawthorne said calmly. "But that doesn't answer the question."

"The truth is, we never really got to learn who he is." Dorothea said in turn. "There's very little he's actually told us about himself."

"Well, it seems like there's something to be taken away by all of us." Hawthorne replied. "Once of course, they actually arrive."

"Mr. Hawthorne! The emperor is here!" A servant cried as he burst through the door, his face flushed and his breath laboured.

"Ahh. Very good. On time as always." Hawthorne said. "Very well, have them come in. And ask them if they require any refreshments."

"Yes my lord!" The footman shouted as he turned and ran back.

"Speak of the devil." Hawthorne muttered as he turned to Monica. "Get yourself one shot of bourbon and the others their respective drinks. This meeting might take a while."

* * *

**AN**:Only a few spelling errors. (Thank Sothis for small mercies).


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Passage of centuries.

* * *

The doors to the meeting room opened slowly as the emperor of the Adrestian Empire walked into the room, an unmovable wall comprising of Jeritza, Byleth and Hubert walking slowly behind her.

As one, the occupants of the room who were sitting hastily rose up, but Edelgard waved them down.

"Hawthorne." Edelgard said evenly as she looked her host in the eye.

The man made a short bow as he gestured for them to sit. "Would you like any refreshments?"

"Bernadetta has gone to the kitchens already." Hubert said as he pulled a chair out for Edelgard. "I believe she will help us get our refreshments."

Hawthorne nodded. "Very well then. Shall we wait for her?"

Edelgard frowned as she glanced around the room. "Where is Monica von Ochs?"

"I sent her to gather refreshments for the rest of us here. I have a suspicion we will be here for a very long time."

"Sorry about that." Monica said as she hastily scrambled into the room, two servants and Bernadetta von Varley on her heels. "Shall we begin?"

"We should." Hawthorne said as he gestured the waiters forward, drinks falling into place before each of the assembled guests.

"Shall we skip on formal introductions?" Edelgard asked as she looked around the room. "We are all known to one another."

Hawthorne looked around the room as glances were exchanged. "Very well then. Let us skip the usual pleasantries. What is it that you have come here for?"

"There is much about Fodlan I do not understand. Especially regarding Shambhala." Byleth started as he took a small sip of water.

"I will do my best to explain to you, though even collectively, our knowledge of those who slither in the dark is rudimentary at best." Hawthorne replied.

"That much is to be expected." Hubert said coldly. "Now, is there anyone who wishes to go first on the topic?"

For a moment the room remained silent, much of the room having nothing to say.

"Very well then. I will begin." Jeritza said coldly. "I met three members of the group in the year 1176. They gave me the Scythe of Sariel."

"That weapon was created by them?" Byleth asked the pale haired horseman.

"Correct." Jeritza replied.

"Very well then, Emile, tell us about these three Shambhalans." Hawthorne said in an authoritative voice.

"My name is Jeritza. Please do not speak of Emile." Jeritza shot back.

"Very well then Jeritza. But do tell us about the three Shambhalans."

"The three of them consisted of two women and a man." Jeritza said. "The man did most of the talking. The two women seemed to be a hurry to be somewhere else."

"Go on." Byleth said as he leaned back into his chair. "Did they mention any names to you?"

"The older woman was named Aranea. The younger Mortis."

"Mortis?" Monica asked suddenly.

"You know of her?" Jeritza asked as he turned his gaze to Monica.

"Tall, dark hair, pale skin?" Monica asked.

Jeritza nodded. "While that particular description could fit a third of Fodlan, yes, that is an accurate description of what she looked like."

"Is that something that we should know?" Byleth asked as he glanced at Jeritza.

"It would seem to me that this Mortis is someone many of us have met before." Shamir observed.

"Indeed." Hubert chimed in. "I too, have had an interaction with this Mortis."

"When was this?" Dorothea asked.

"Regarding Monica." Hubert replied.

"Allow me to explain this particular situation." Hawthorne said with an annoyed sigh. "This Mortis was one of the Shambhalans who had participated in the abduction of Monica."

"How many were there in total?" Byleth asked.

"Three. The other two were a man named Yurius and a woman named Kronya."

The room silenced at the name of Jeralt Eisner's killer.

"Ah. I see that nobody informed you about that particular piece of information." Hubert sighed, shaking his head.

"Is something amiss?" Hawthorne asked as he turned his gaze to Hubert.

"Yes. Jeralt Eisner was murdered by this Kronya. A knife to the back."

Hawthorne glanced warily at Byleth, but seeing no reaction, nodded quietly. "I was not aware of that fact. I am sorry."

"The past is the past. But do tell me more about this plan of yours." Byleth said as he turned his gaze to the older man.

"The original plan was to kill me." Monica said in a quiet, shaking voice.

"It was." Hubert confirmed. "There was an outside complication that required a change of plans."

Dorothea frowned. "Was this Roderigo Midas?"

"Correct." Hubert replied. "He had attempted to abduct Miss Ochs prior to our own plans. His actions turned a clean assassination attempt into a months long debacle"

"Attempted?" Dorothea asked. "He attempted to kidnap Ingrid too."

"Yes. I'm aware. I was there when the attempt against Ingrid happened." Hubert shot back. "He's not very good at finding hired help."

"Correct." Hawthorne said calmly. "Whatever the case, he's dead now."

Dorothea looked relieved. "He's dead now? What a relief."

"Very. I was told that he had been found with a slit throat in Arianrhod."

"A dog's death well deserved." Hubert chuckled. "We made good use of his surviving assets."

"Are those all the Shambhalans that have been named that you have encountered?" Byleth asked.

"I encountered a number more over the course of the Insurrection of the Seven." Hawthorne offered.

"Were there any notable ones that you wish to tell us about?" Byleth asked.

"Two. Their names were Thales and Adrasteia, though both only for a few minutes at most."

The second name made Edelgard flinch.

"You met this Adrasteia before? And never told any of us?" Hubert asked, his face hardening.

"Once. He came to a bar of mine early in the rebellion. He was very angry about something."

"What did he look like?" Hubert half snarled, his stare rapt as he looked at the older crime lord.

"Thin. Fairly athletic. He walked in as if he wanted to kill someone with his bare hands."

"Did he mention what he was angry about?" Byleth asked.

"Something about him being overruled." Hawthorne replied. "I never saw him again after that night."

"What did he buy?" Byleth asked.

"Two hangover cures for the other two Shambhalans in the bar. Both minor grunts from the look of things. A glass of ice wine for himself. Paid in cash. Declined to accept change."

"I've heard his name mentioned before, but I never met him." Jeritza said as he took a sip of water.

"When was this?" Byleth asked.

"When the Scythe of Sariel was handed to me. The older Shambhalan woman said that a certain Adrasteia was quite annoyed that he had to give up the scythe."

"Your weapon originally belonged to this Adrasteia?" Byleth asked.

"According to this woman, yes. Though I do not know if they were telling the truth at the time." Jeritza said.

Byleth nodded. "Very well then. Is there anyone else who would like to add anything? If not, I would like it if we could go over the list of Shambhalans we have encountered."

"Very well then." Edelgard said as the room remained silent. "Start the roll call."

"First. This Mortis." Byleth began.

"Cold, paranoid little thing." Jeritza snorted.

"Aranea."

Blank stares followed him as he paused.

"Right. Only Jeritza has met her, and only briefly. Yurius."

"Very quiet in comparison to Mortis. Passive and somewhat afraid." Hawthorne offered.

"Adrasteia."

"Cold, mysterious bastard with a potential grudge." Hawthorne offered.

Shamir nodded. "That would seem to be the case, though we only have limited information about him."

"Cornelia, Solon, and Kronya. All dead."

The room chilled for a moment, but there was silence.

"Thales. The leader of this group, from what we can tell."

"Yes." Edelgard said quietly. "That would be correct."

"I believe that's all the soldiers we know of." Byleth said. "Have I missed any?"

* * *

"Ingrid?" Ashe called as he wandered through the charred city, his eyes on the lookout.

The burning sun was the only response he felt, with not even the wind replying to him.

For a moment, Ashe toyed with the idea of taking a small sip from the canteens he had been provided, the water inside calling to him.

A moment later, he began to run deeper into the city, trying to keep his mind off the water that tempted him every time the water crashed against the boundaries of the canteen.

"Ingrid?" Ashe called again, though the heat and dry climate made him wish he hadn't opened his mouth.

Still, the lack of a response from his partner was concerning.

"Where did I leave her?" Ashe asked himself as he turned another corner, the sun ever unforgiving.

He scanned the streets of the city hastily, tossing away strands of hair that blocked his vision in the process.

"Ingrid!" Ashe shouted again, wiping away a sheen of sweat that had formed on his brow.

A gust of dry wind tossed his voice away and filled his mouth with the bitter taste of ash and charcoal.

Ashe gagged on the bitter, smoke laced dust as he hastily bowed away from the wind, raising his arms to shield himself as a terrible screech filled the sky.

Then the earth shook as a great scream echoed off the walls of the ruined capital.

* * *

"I believe that list consisted of all the Shambhalans we have encountered over the years." Hawthorne offered as he took a sip of his drink. "Though I am interested to hear that the curer of the Holy Kingdom's dread plague was Shambhalan."

"It is possible that they could have killed the original Cornelia and replaced her with a duplicate." Hubert offered. "We simply do not know the truth of that matter."

"Whatever the case, I'd like to ask you which of the Shambhalans you worked with the most." Byleth said calmly.

"Yurius." Hawthorne said. "Yurius, if that is his real name, lacked a certain agency to act on his own initiative. As for Thales, I never spoke with him, I merely stood in the same room as him. Kronya and Mortis I met for a few minutes before they left for places unknown."

"I worked with Solon the most." Jeritza said. "Though it wasn't by much."

"What was he like to work with?" Dorothea asked.

"Very arrogant. I hated him. He hated me."

"Did he ever reveal anything that could be useful to us?" Byleth asked.

"He said that his replacement was a spiteful snake."

'Replacement?" Edelgard asked.

"I didn't pry at the time."

"I suspect he may have held an office before he joined the expedition to Garreg Mach." Hubert offered. "If that's the case, then it's likely that he disliked whoever took his role after he left for Garreg Mach."

"Solon pretended to be Tomas, if memory serves." Shamir said as she glanced around the dining hall.

"Correct." Jeritza said. "Though he's dead now."

"And with him, perhaps our last direct link to Shambhala." Byleth said grimly.

Edelgard coughed lightly. "Let's get back to the topic of living enemies."

"Indeed." Byleth said. "Solon is dead, and that does not help us in the present."

"Anything else you have to say about Solon?" Edelgard asked Jeritza as Byleth finished his sentence.

"None." Jeritza replied curtly.

"Very well then." Hawthorne said. "What about Mortis then?"

"She hated me." Monica said quietly. "Told me I was worthless. That I was only alive to tie up loose ends."

"Sounds like your average Shambhalan to me." Dorothea snorted. "If we meet her again, I'll make sure to hit her over the head with something heavy."

Hawthorne sighed. "I did not see her a great deal over her stay at my properties. She was in Enbarr for a few short days before she vanished."

"I had my share of interactions with her." Hubert said coldly. "Has she not been a Shambhalan, she could have been a valuable asset."

"That is rare praise coming from you." Edelgard said. "What did she do to impress you?"

"Despite her less than pleasant personality, she was also very capable." Hawthorne interrupted.

"Indeed." Hubert confirmed. "She was my primary contact when it came to eliminating witnesses in regards to Roderigo Midas."

"I didn't know that." Edelgard said suddenly. "I only met her once, if memory serves."

"You didn't need to know. It was all part of the wider plan to bring Kronya into the academy quietly."

"What happened in this little meeting between all of you?" Byleth asked.

* * *

The sun had long since set on the small hamlet when the last dress Maya had picked out was safely tucked within her trunk.

Ignatz sat slumped in his seat at the dining area of the hotel and buried his head in his hands.

"I need a drink." Yurius announced.

"I would get one, but whatever funds I had on hand are gone." Ignatz laughed weakly.

"I'm not so cruel as to let you go hungry." Yurius replied, gesturing for the bar manager. "Two shots of your strongest drink. Straight. On the rocks would be too slow."

The man nodded as he turned around, reaching for a long, slender glass bottle.

"I'm sorry about the afternoon. I never thought she could spend so much on clothes alone."

The bartender dropped two shot glasses before the pair, expertly filling each glass with golden amber liquid.

"Pardon me." Ignatz muttered as he downed the closer glass with a single toss of the head. "I'm going to have nightmares about gold from now on."

"I said I was sorry ok?" Maya snapped from the stairs. "Who knew that poor Evi only had one set of clothes?"

"Mortis has maybe three pairs?" Yurius shot back.

"Six. Well, now probably three." Mortis replied.

"What happened to the other three sets? I remember you wearing multiple outfits when we were travelling." Yurius asked.

"Destroyed with Arianrhod, I'm afraid." Mortis replied.

"You were in Arianrhod?" Ignatz asked.

"Our unit had a presence there. Mostly policing, keeping the city free of pests, making sure bandits and thugs were kept in line."

"Did you work with Cornelia?" Ignatz asked.

Yurius watched Mortis flinch at the name of her former overseer, though Mortis recovered surprisingly quickly.

"Who else had the money to pay us?" Mortis asked with a forced laugh, though Yurius could tell a hard edge had slipped into her voice.

"I see." Ignatz said quietly. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"What do you mean?" Mortis asked, her voice tighter than before.

"When we took Arianrhod, Cornelia's golems began to slaughter Kingdom defenders. If your unit was still there, it's likely they were killed in the crossfire."

"I see." Mortis offered, her lips pressed into a grimace. "Thank you for telling me about this."

"We thought of it as odd at the time, with Cornelia firing on her own forces." Ignatz said. "Still, I'm sorry to hear about your unit."

Mortis shook her head. "I was transferred out shortly before the siege began. Someone in another unit had requested me by name."

"Where were you headed?"

"The unit in question was in the east."

"Did you find them?" Ignatz asked.

"No. From what it would seem, the unit had vanished without a trace by the time I had gotten there. Even now, I'm unsure of where they went."

"Were you three together?" Maya asked.

"Three?" Yurius asked as he downed his shot of alcohol, gesturing for another shot for the two of them.

Maya rolled her eyes. "You, Mortis, and Evi."

Mortis and Yurius shared a glance before Mortis shook her head. "No. We found Evi shortly after the bandit attack."

"How did you run into Mortis in the first place?" Ignatz asked. "From the sound of things, it doesn't sound like you've done all that much travelling, Yurius."

Yurius nodded. "I had retired for a while when I ran into Mortis asking around for the whereabouts of my old unit."

"So you're out here to serve as a mercenary again?" Ignatz asked.

"Are you out to challenge someone in the ways of the sword?" Maya asked in awe.

"I hope that's not the case." Ignatz chuckled as he eased up, taking a long drink of alcohol in the process. "We already have Felix to deal with."

"What about Felix?" Leonie asked as the door to the tavern swung open. "What did he do now?"

"Yurius here is only on this trip with us because he got bored of peaceful life. Does that not remind you of Felix?" Ignatz asked with a slight laugh, his face flushed.

"Well, I've known Mortis for a long time, so I can't exactly say no when she shows up in my village asking for help." Yurius protested

"So what do you plan to do once you get to Garreg Mach?" Ignatz asked, though his words were starting to become slurred.

"Drink good alcohol, maybe join another mercenary company. Lots of those around these days."

"Mortis, if you can't find your old company, might you be interested in working for the emperor?" Ignatz asked as he turned around to the other woman. "There's a lot of work for mages."

"When the time comes, we will see." Mortis replied as she glanced over at the bartender. "Until then, let's get some dinner."

"Nice. I'm famished." Leonie said with a large grin.

"You are always famished." Ignatz drunkenly observed with a chuckle as the bartender came over.

* * *

"I had contact with some elements of Shambhala well before we ever came to the academy." Hubert said as he sat back into his chair. "Minor mages moving about the palace, a few meetings I attended as my father's representative."

"So what does this have to do with this Mortis?" Byleth asked.

"I spent most of the year 1174 in the dungeons below the palace." Edelgard offered from her position at the end of the table.

Hubert remained silent, through a glimmer of emotion flashed through his eyes. "It wasn't just 1174. I did not see you until midway through 1175."

Byleth nodded quietly. "Hubert, I would presume that you were working with Shambhala during this timeframe?"

"Correct." Hubert replied. "I had initially sought to find information on Lady Edelgard's whereabouts at the time, but over time I came to learn more about their operations in the city."

"How does this connect to this Mortis?"

"I provided them a personal address for mail collection. Some time after they left Enbarr, I found detailed instructions on the abduction and subsequent execution planned for Miss von Ochs."

"And when following those instructions, you encountered this Mortis." Byleth said.

"Correct." Hubert replied.

"How many times did you work with her?" Edelgard asked. "Because from what I remember, we only met once."

"Correct, Lady Edelgard. I only met her once with you, and that was only in regards to the culmination of our campaign." Hubert said. "As for times I have worked with her without your knowledge, well. Four times."

"I trust the two of you worked well together?" Hawthorne offered.

"Very. I was able to learn a considerable amount of magical knowledge from her from the limited number of times we had met."

"Anything that we can use today?" Hannemann asked, his voice hopeful.

"No. Whatever few minutes we spent together were either focused on basic offensive magic or the targets we needed dead."

"How many of them were there?" Monica asked. "I spent most of my time under guard by Yurius. I didn't see Mortis past the initial ambush."

"We met in person four times. The first came shortly before the intercepted the convoy that had stolen away Monica von Ochs."

"Hubert, when was this?" Edelgard asked as she looked at him with concern on her face.

"Do you remember when Lady Ladislava took you on the tour of Fort Merceus?"

"Yes. I was told that you had fallen ill."

"I was ill. The entire ambush was conducted by the three Shambhalans present."

"What about the other three times you had interacted with this Mortis?" Byleth asked.

"We assassinated various key figures involved with the kidnapping operation." Hubert replied. "Two were killed in Enbarr at her hand, one was eliminated three weeks before we ordered Flayn's kidnapping."

"And you met her one time with me in person?" Edelgard asked.

"Correct. I did not see her again after that last meeting."

"What was this last meeting about?" Byleth asked.

"It was about Monica. Specifically about getting rid of loose ends." Hubert replied.

Byleth sat quietly as he turned his gaze to the woman. "So, I believe the answer to killing you was a hard no."

"It's funny how things worked out." Edelgard said. "From what I remembered, both Hubert and this Mortis advocated for killing Monica."

"She was a liability at the time. There was no reason to keep her alive, and a half dozen reasons to have her eliminated." Hubert protested with a roll of the eyes, as if he had argued with Edelgard many times over the same subject.

"So why wasn't she killed?" Byleth asked.

"There were two reasons." Hawthorne said calmly. "The first was that Mortis was stationed in Arianrhod when the decision to kill her was made, with no means to get to Enbarr quickly. Yurius, who was alone in Enbarr, flatly refused to kill Miss von Ochs."

"Hawthorne implied at the time that he would refuse to collaborate with me should I continue to insist on her death. I value his network enough to agree to a compromise with Shambhala." Hubert offered as he leaned back into his chair. "Mortis signed off with the change with an understanding that Monica would never leave Hawthorne's sight."

"And how did the senior leadership in Shambhala react to this change?" Byleth asked.

"Mortis had reported back to a senior officer in Shambhala, who allegedly gave their blessings to the changed plan." Hubert said. "While I do not know how true that story is, the information that the senior officer had blessed the plan was the last news I had received from Mortis."

Byleth nodded. "I see. And we know the rest."

The room remained quiet for a moment before Edelgard spoke. "Yes. That's correct."

Byleth nodded. "I'll need some time to think this over. There's a lot I need to think about."

Hawthorne nodded as he gestured for Monica. "I will provide dinner for anyone who desires it."

Byleth shook his head as he rose to his feet, his pace steady as he stepped out of the room.

* * *

The giant creature that had landed in the central square was quiet for a moment as it stared at the corpse of the Immaculate One.

Then it let out a shriek that deafened Ashe as he dropped the clothes and lunch meant for Ingrid, his head in agony as he staggered away from the bird.

"I must find Ingrid." Ashe hissed to himself as he tried to drown out the horrific wail of the terrible beast.

He risked one final glance at the beast before he prepared to leave his cover, though for some reason the beast had turned to the northern side of the city, lashing out in rage at shadowy human soldiers.

As the bird reared up its head for another attack, Ashe leapt from his cover, deftly sliding behind another as human screams echoed against the walls of the city.

His new vantage point was hardly any better than his previous one, though he was indeed somewhat closer to the giant beast.

Despite its immense, hulking size, the bird was still quick and deft, though it had paid little attention to him.

Ashe leapt again out of cover, a wince escaping his lips as he collided awkwardly with a barrel.

It was a risky move, having brought him just one burnt out housing block away from the beast, but it allowed for him to get a good look at the monster's titanic form.

Then the bird leapt up, screaming into the sky as Ashe did his best to cover his ears, watching silently as the bird disappeared over the north wall of the city.

A moment later, Ashe threw himself at the spot where the bird had once battled, the stench of spilled blood assaulting his senses as he reached the shattered tiled where the beast had raged against its enemies.

The street beyond was a scene of carnage. A dozen bodies, some relatively intact, some missing limbs, and some little more than bloodstains lay in the street, having died where the bird had found them.

As he stalked forward, his eyes nervously scanning for survivors, Ashe felt his heart sink.

A silvery scrap of armour, perhaps once part of a wider suit, lay abandoned and dented on the ground, the crest of House Galatea still visible despite the damage done to the armour of the plate.

* * *

"I thought you had left." Edelgard said softly as she approached Byleth, her eyes watching him quietly as she sat next to him on the cool stone bench.

"There's a great deal that I need to take in." Byleth replied, his voice barely audible. "Hubert had told me once that he did not enjoy working with this Shambhala, but he didn't tell me how deep you were involved with them."

For a brief moment, Edelgard felt a cold stab of shame rise from the pit of her stomach, her words dying in her throat as she felt the ring on her finger grow heavy.

Byleth turned to face her before he looked down at the ring that belonged to his father.

"El." Byleth said softly. "I love you. I always will, but this is a time I need to be alone."

Edelgard nodded. "When you are ready, rejoin us."

Byleth nodded as he turned his gaze away. "Yes, I can do that."

* * *

Spite sat quietly in his office with another small file in his arms, the room silent apart from a small pendulum that he had set up, the slow, steady beat.

It was a small file, usually kept deep in an empty freezer deep in Vault November, recently taken out on his exclusive order.

With a sigh, he flipped the folder open, looking into his own eyes that reflected on the page.

He studied his twin sister for a moment, smiling as he remembered the mindless, wasted days of his childhood, so many decades past.

He moved onto Kronya for a brief moment, smiling to himself as he remembered the way she had grasped at the mysterious camera after the picture had been taken.

The memory gnawed at him before a slight cough drew his attention.

A woman, her face fearful, stood before his desk, her eyes unwilling to meet his.

"You are part of the cooking staff?" Spite asked as he shut the file with a sigh, turning his full attention to the woman.

"Yes. I am." The woman replied.

"Very good." Spite replied. "However, the emergency supply team consists of more than a single person. Where are the others?"

The woman flinched. "I-"

"Allow me to guess. They have fled Shambhala." Spite said coldly.

The woman flinched. "How did you know that?"

"Human nature. They fear punishment, especially the sort I have in mind to inflict on the guilty party of this debacle."

"What will you do to them?" The woman asked, her hands clasped tightly around her front."

"First, I will have them decimated. It's not a punishment I enjoy, but they must remember what the cost of failure is."

"Decimation?" The woman asked, her face terrified.

"Yes. For the crime of tampering with emergency rations, which, if you remember, are a fundamental backup that our people need in times of crisis."

The woman took a step back as she closed her eyes. "I see."

"You will be exempt from the selection process. We do not put pregnant women in harm's way."

The woman flinched. "You knew?"

"The father of your child confessed to me a few weeks ago. Good on him. Rare for men to take responsibility."

The woman looked quietly at her shoes. "I see. What about the others?"

"There is only a single punishment for desertion with intent to flee." Spite replied as he rose from his desk. "I will organize a kill team."

The woman seemed stunned. "And me?"

"For the fact that you have the courage to admit your failure in this debacle, you will be spared. That being said, I will have you make a full set of replacement meals for this wasted set."

"I see." The woman said as she bowed, her eyes focused on the tips of her shoes.

"Wear something suitable for walking." Spite ordered as he passed the woman.

"Pardon?"

"You will join us in the kill team. I will need to know if anyone we encounter randomly is in fact a simple peasant on a poaching expedition or a deserter trying to flee my wrath."

"I-"

"That being said, you are with child, so I will not put you in harm's way when dealing with these traitors, which is why I would urge you to wear something sensible for a great deal of walking."

The woman looked down at the simple flats she wore. "Of course sir."

"I expect you in the machine hall in an hour. Do not be late."

"Of course sir, but what about you?"

"I must prepare the rest of the kill team." Spite replied as he rose and stalked out of his office.

* * *

Dinner screeched to a halt as Byleth and Edelgard returned, as the former diners hastily put down their forks.

"It's fine." Edelgard said quietly as she settled into her seat. "Finish your meals."

Jeritza glanced down at the slice of tiramisu before him before pushing the plate away. "No. We should finish what we came here to do first."

Hawthorne nodded as he pushed his plate out of the way, gesturing politely to Byleth. "You have the floor then."

Byleth paused as he glanced around the room of his allies before he closed his eyes for a brief moment. "We cannot stay in Enbarr while Shambhala is still out there."

"Alright then. What is it that you propose we do?" Hubert asked.

"We must scour Fodlan for Shambhala. Enbarr holds no more information for us to uncover." Byleth replied. "In a few weeks time, we will convene in Garreg Mach with the rest of the Black Eagles Strike Force. From there, I hope we can find threads that will lead back to the source of this Shambhala."

"Do you wish for me to come as well?" Hawthorne asked as he shakily rose to his feet.

"Only if you wish to." Byleth replied. "If possible, I'd like to request that Monica comes."

The crimson haired girl nodded as she looked away. "I guess I don't have a choice anyhow."

"I would like to set out tomorrow." Byleth said.

The crimson haired girl blinked in confusion. "Wait, really?"

"There's little reason we should remain in Enbarr. This city holds no purpose for us. We are not going to find Shambhala in the sewers."

"Ah." Monica said quietly. "I should get packing then."

"I will get the maids to assist you." Hawthorne replied calmly. "That being said, finish your dinner. No point letting good food go to waste."

Byleth nodded. "If we have no other objections, I would like to leave for the night."

Edelgard nodded as she rose from her seat with Byleth, the others in the room hastily rising before she waved them off, her pace steady as she walked into the afternoon sky.

* * *

Edelgard found Enbarr in the dying hours of the day to be cool and fresh, the night having taken away some of the suffocating heat that had plagued Enbarr for much of the summer.

"Are you hungry?" Byleth asked as he took her hand again, his fingers absentmindedly stroking hers.

"Just a little, but I can wait until we get back to the palace."

"Why not get something out here?" Byleth asked as he began a slow, leisurely pace.

"Well, I don't know Enbarr that well." Edelgard mumbled. "Father never took us anywhere interesting."

"Then let's begin to fix that, shall we?" Byleth asked as gestured around the street.

"What would you like?" Edelgard asked as she turned her head back to Byleth.

"A quiet, well balanced dinner, since we are going to start travelling tomorrow."

Edelgard nodded as they reached a bustling street corner, her eyes watching the street carefully.

"Perhaps a quiet place with only the two of us." Edelgard offered.

"I disagree. I like the open air market down the street."

Edelgard turned and smiled as she saw the riot of colours and sweet smells that made up the celebration. "Good eye."

"Shall we?" Byleth asked as he raised his hand.

"But of course." Edelgard replied, her smile bright. "We have an entire continent to explore. Might as well get started somewhere."

* * *

I'm going to head out." Mortis said quietly as she rose from her seat. "My head hurts."

"Do you need me to walk with you?" Yurius asked as he quickly downed his ale.

Mortis shook her head as the bar continued to fill up, gesturing for an older man to take her seat. "A walk around town would be nice."

Yurius nodded. "I agree. I'm done here anyways."

"Headed out so soon?" Lorenz asked as he descended the stairs, his eyes darting toward the empty seat Yurius left behind.

"Just need some fresh air." Yurius assured Lorenz. "We should be back shortly."

"Of course. Enjoy your walk." Lorenz said before turning to the bar, gesturing quickly at the overworked bartender.

"Any particular place we should go to?" Mortis asked Yurius when they stepped out into the open air.

"Not particularly." Yurius replied. "What do you think of our new friends?"

"More trouble than they are worth. The fact that they know Hubert von Vestra personally alone makes them dangerous."

"The pale, sickly guy we met during the battle?"

"Correct. From what I've been able to gather, he's become a big shot in this new order set up by our former puppets."

"Big shot how?"

"Being a retainer for the emperor." Mortis replied.

"He's always been like that, hasn't he?"

Mortis shrugged. "You have a point there. Still, he probably has the authority to have us arrested if he figures out that we are here. So it's best to avoid him."

"You think the other three will mention us?"

Mortis snorted. "Of course they will. It's only a matter of time. The only question is how quickly they can get in touch with those who can cause us trouble that matters."

"And how many people can get us in trouble?"

"Five in total."

"Who?"

"Loose ends. The emperor, Hubert von Vestra, Jeritza von Hrym, your precious little pet, and this Paul Hawthorne."

"In other words, the people who we worked with the last time."

"Memories can fade, but we worked with those five long enough that I doubt they would ever forget us."

"Who is this Jeritza von Hrym you mentioned?" Yurius asked as they turned a corner into a wide central square.

"Some bastard who murdered practically his entire bloodline. I was there to hand him the Scythe of Sariel."

Yurius winced at the name of the weapon. "Was it a good weapon?"

"I'm told it was a master crafted weapon. Rare, hard to find. A shame we had to give it away."

"Who made that choice? Yurius asked as he turned a corner into a large, open square.

"Entire ruling council seemed to have a hand in it. Solon, Thales, Aranea, Spite."

"They were content with giving away that kind of hardware for free?" Yurius asked, his voice failing to conceal his shock.

"I was told at the time that it was meant to serve as a warning to our puppets in Enbarr, a little warning that we had powerful weapons at our disposal."

"Let me guess, this Jeritza has turned against us, with the Scythe of Sariel in hand."

"Correct. It's a mess through and through."

"What do you think about our new friends?" Yurius asked, changing the topic quickly.

"I have yet to see them fight." Mortis replied. "Though if it boils down to a fight, we might have to surprise attack them."

"Why would we do that?"

"A three on two fight is bad enough already. Even worse if they are ambushing us."

"But they don't recognize us at all."

"Suppose at the Great Bridge of Myrddin we encounter one of the five people we have met previously. All it would take is one chance encounter and our entire mission goes up in flames."

"Then what would you do to stop this from happening?"

"I'd like to converse with Spite, but there's no way to contact him with someone else in the same room."

"That's not good."

"It's the hand we have been dealt. For better or for worse."

"If you had to fight them, who would you take down first?"

Mortis paused as she considered the question for a slow moment. "I'd have to say Ignatz. If an engagement was to be started against us, he would be able to rain arrows upon us if we tried to pull a retreat."

"But would they really attack us if Hubert von Vestra suddenly shouted at them to do so?"

"I don't know. It would have to depend on them and what they choose to do with the information. Still, they just might choose to follow orders and ask questions later."

"Speaking of Hubert, where do you think they know him from?"

Mortis frowned. "All three of them attend Garreg Mach the same year as our puppets, or so the reports from the time claim."

"What were they doing there?"

"Fellow students under a certain Claude von Riegan." Mortis replied. "Turned over to the same class as von Vestra over the course of a few months."

"You knew them beforehand?" Yurius spluttered.

"I was stationed in Arianrhod for practically the entire duration of that year. I read over the reports, but I never attached a human face to any of the names I saw."

"Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" Yurius asked.

"Never found the time alone with you. I would have pointed this out if we were alone earlier."

"So what do we do from here on in?" Yurius asked.

"Pry whatever information we can out of them. Make it seem like we might be interested in serving in their legions alongside them." Mortis replied.

"Is that our plan moving forward?" Yurius asked.

"Until we can get a clear picture of what is going on in this damn war, yes."

Yurius sighed as he glanced back at the tavern. "How much do you think they'll drink?"

"Not our problem in the end. We aren't picking up the tab."

"Fair point." Yurius chuckled as he turned on his heel. "Shall we rejoin the others?"

"But of course." Mortis replied with a flick of her hair.

* * *

**AN:** Tiny plot hole fixed.

As always, Review, Favourite, Follow, all that.

Physical inspirations for Characters:

Mortis: Cross between Arbiter Mortis (Rage of Bahamut) and a Pixiv original artwork.

**AN 2:** Link to the Pixiv artwork will be posted on my page. (Note, due to the fact that links don't generally work on FFNet, this artwork may be difficult to access).

Yurius: Yurius, Rage of Bahamut/Granblue Fantasy.

Spite: Victor Lynch (with red hair), Assassin's Creed Syndicate

Paul Hawthorne: Laimes/the fake Leanan-sidhe, Shakugan no Shana.

Post timeskip Monica von Ochs: Dahlia Hawthorne, Ace Attorney.

**AN 3:** Finally 60,000 words in. Thank you for your continued support!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: The end of the beginning.

* * *

Macuil did his very best to not lose his lunch as he stared at the revolting form of his prisoner.

The stench of her blood reeked even as he did his best to wash the taste from his mouth.

"What was I thinking? Putting one of the traitor's spawns in my mouth!" Macuil raged to nobody in particular, the ghostly legion of his worshippers ever silent at the raging of their personal demigod.

He downed the last of his tea before he turned to the limp form of the girl, quietly observing the small handful of wounds that leaked cursed blood before packing up the rough canteen that held his tea.

"I certainly hope I didn't drink anything nasty by accident." He muttered as he closed his eyes. "First Agarthans. Now I get tangled up with the spawn of the Elites."

* * *

"Has anyone seen Ashe or Ingrid or can I eat their dinner?" Sylvain laughed as he entered the command tent, frowning as he found it empty.

"Hey Felix! There's nobody here." Sylvain called out to the swordsman.

"Stop lying." Felix snarled as he entered the tent. "Huh. You weren't lying."

"No guard either." Sylvain added. "I wonder why."

"What a waste of time. No bandits, no wild game, no dinner." Felix grumbled. "Did Ingrid eat everything again?"

Sylvain laughed as he turned about the camp. "If there's no Ingrid, then I'm free to do as I please."

Felix groaned. "No. That's not happening. Last time I got rocks dropped into my boots. Idiots can't even tell our boots apart."

Sylvain laughed again. "Watching you uncomfortable is funny."

"That's it. I'm not going on any more missions with you." Felix grumbled. "Enjoy pulling weeds out of a garden or something."

"General!" A voice shouted as the two men turned around.

"Hey there." Sylvain said with a cheesy grin, the woman recoiling slightly as she seemed to realize who she was talking to."

"Speak." Felix snarled, punching Sylvain on the shoulder.

"There's been a dragon sighting." The woman said.

A psychotic grin spread across Felix's face. "A dragon you say."

Sylvain seemed surprised. "A dragon. This far up north?"

"Might have had a connection with The Immaculate One." Felix observed.

"Oh. Right." Sylvain muttered. "I forgot about that."

"Where are the others?" Felix asked the woman.

"We have not seen General Ubert for some hours. He came to camp to rally his personal guard. General Galatea has not been seen since the morning."

"Ferdinand and Caspar?"

"They are in the city."

"You said that Ashe rallied his personal guard." Sylvain said.

"Yes, he presumably went with General Galatea to hunt the dragon."

"Those idiots." Sylvain snarled. "It took a group effort to bring down The Immaculate One. They shouldn't have gone on their own."

"The rest of us aren't that much use fighting a dragon." Felix pointed out. "None of us are skilled with arrows. And only Ingrid has a flying mount."

Sylvain swore. "Bring us to Ferdinand. Now."

"Yes!" The woman exclaimed, hurriedly turning toward the shattered capital city.

* * *

"I avenged Jeralt Eisner!" Leonie shouted as Mortis and Yurius entered the tavern.

"We were there." Lorenz said quickly. "There's no need to shout it to the world."

"But I watched that bitch bleed! I ran my spear right through her!"

"That's rather rude. You should have left her for the professor."

"Hubert dancing was funny." Leonie continued. "Did you see the look on her face when I hit her again?"

"No. I did not." Lorenz replied as he finished a piece of wild duck. "This duck is excellent though. Send my compliments to the chef."

The bartender nodded before turning to take another order.

"Yurius! Mortis!" Lorenz called. "Please, join us."

Slowly, the two Shambhalans joined their new friends at the bar.

"Did your walk go well?" Lorenz asked.

"Enough." Mortis replied, her eyes settling on the drunken Leonie. "How much has she had to drink?"

"Three ales, two shots of vodka, and a glass of white wine." Lorenz replied. "And to think she owns Jeralt Eisner's bar tab."

Mortis sighed. "And I'm supposed to bunk with her?"

"We have one more spare room." The bartender offered. "Well, we had one spare room."

"What happened to it?" Mortis asked.

"We didn't want four people in one bed, so we let your friends Maya and Evi take it."

"Oh." Mortis growled, clearly displeased with the choice.

"In our defense, they requested it. Maya said she wanted to get to know Evi better."

Mortis nodded as she turned her gaze to Leonie. "Does she talk in her sleep?"

"Only when she's been drinking." Lorenz replied cheerfully.

"And tonight she's been drinking." Mortis replied with a look of disgust on her face.

"When she's drunk, she doesn't kick or punch." Lorenz offered.

"If you don't mind, there's a sofa in the central hall." The bartender offered. "It's usually used for people waiting on their guests, but you can crash there."

Mortis nodded. "How much?"

"So long as you paid your full bill, I don't think we'll have a problem with it."

"What do you mean by full bill?" Yurius asked, his tone suspicious.

"Well, your outstanding bar bill needs to be paid."

"That's only six drinks." Mortis replied with a shrug. "A small price to pay for a good night of sleep."

"Ah. But we also meant Jeralt's bill." The bartender replied with a serpent's grin.

"How much gold will that be?"

"Seventeen ales, eighty five shots of hard liquor, a barrel of wine, three chairs, and a steak dinner."

Mortis blinked.

Lorenz coughed.

Yurius fell out of his chair.

"One more drink for me!" Leonie shouted.

"I must organize my finances." Lorenz whispered, his face a ghastly pale. "I only thought the legendary bar bill was a rumour."

"Help me carry Ignatz up." Yurius said as Lorenz staggered past him.

"Of course." Lorenz said quietly. "We need all the gold we can get."

Yurius exchanged a glance with Mortis, who replied with a slight shake of the head.

The three men turned slowly as a pitcher of ale slammed into the bar behind them, a loud cheer from Leonie chasing them up the flight of stairs.

* * *

"Are you ready?" Spite asked the cook as she entered the mess hall.

"Yes." The woman replied, a pair of combat boots having replaced the simple slippers from before.

"We will be conducting a full roll call in the machine hall." Spite said as he rose from his position on the bench. "If any of your comrades did not choose to desert, then that's one final chance for them to face a less severe punishment."

The woman nodded as she followed Spite out of the mess hall. "Do you have any idea who murdered the private?"

"No. I don't, but there are greater issues at hand than a simple murder. We are at war after all."

"What did the autopsy reveal?." The woman asked. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Three distinct set of wounds. At least three attackers, but with potentially more who did not participate in the slaying."

The woman nodded as she descended the stairs. "Why the machine hall? Why not conduct the roll call in the mess hall?"

"It's the only place where I can oversee all of Shambhala for a head count." Spite replied. "I never really saw a purpose for it, but if we were to rally to war, I would gather our forces there."

"Will we use the Titanius golems in the hunt?"

"No. The Titanus golems that remain are to be kept as a weapon of last resort. Besides, they are too clumsy to maneuver over rough terrain."

"I see." The woman replied. "How many people are you bringing into the hunt?"

"At least two squads. I must check to see who is missing from our role call before we begin."

The woman nodded as they reached the ground floor of the machine hall, the night sky looming in the distance. "Shall I enter the roll call?"

"No. Feel free to stay by my side for the time being." Spite replied as he turned to the large crowd of assembled soldiers.

* * *

Edelgard found her eyes wandering as she strolled down the market streets, the sound of laughter and cheer bringing a smile to her face.

She glanced at the stony, ever observant face of Byleth, his eyes slowly trailing something in the distance.

"Professor?" Edelgard asked as she joined her gaze to his, her head leaning on his arm as she followed his gaze to a distant family, laughing and enjoying the warm summer night.

"Sorry, lost in thought." Byleth replied.

"It's alright. Are you hungry?" Edelgard asked.

"I suppose it's a good a time as any to find someplace to eat." Byleth replied, his eyes no longer looking at the happy family in the distance. "What are you craving?"

Edelgard shrugged. "Perhaps some tea?"

Byleth chuckled as he turned his gaze to a nearby tea house, a half dozen men and women waiting before it.

"Shall we?" Byleth asked. "Or would you rather choose to explore some more?"

Edelgard glanced longingly at the market beyond.

"Let's shop then." Byleth said warmly. "We'll be on the road starting tomorrow anyhow."

Edelgard nodded as she took his hand in hers, her eyes closing as she felt content simply letting her beloved professor lead her through the market.

"Where are we going?" Edelgard asked as she felt Byleth gently pull her to the side.

"Open your eyes and see." Byleth replied in a warm, loving tone.

A fountain of white stone stood before them, the moon rising in the distance, bright against the ever darker night.

"It looks like the moon is rising over the fountain doesn't it?" Byleth asked as he turned back to Edelgard.

"It does." Edelgard replied.

"Shall we return to tea now?" Byleth asked as he brought his arms around Edelgard's midsection, his words a seductive purr against her ears.

Edelgard laughed and tried to worm her way out of the hug, a tiny gasp escaping as Byleth nibbled her ear.

"That tickles!" Edelgard halfheartedly protested.

"Do you want me to stop?" Byleth whispered into her ear.

"Of course not!" Edelgard replied. "Perhaps one day, we can have a full day to ourselves to do as we please."

"When did you become Linhardt?" Byleth asked into her ear, Edelgard grinning widely as she shuffled awkwardly back in the direction of the tea house.

Edelgard refused to reply as Byleth slowed his shuffling to a halt, his arms holding Edelgard in place.

"El, there's nothing wrong with channelling Linhardt. There's also nothing wrong with ruining Hubert's day."

Edelgard laughed at the second comment. "Your majesty! You must keep reading these completely useless documents on your fan mail."

"That's actually an excellent Hubert impression." Byleth said. "But your majesty, you must not eat so much cake. Jeritza stole the other cake the kitchen made this morning."

Edelgard groaned. "Oh no."

"Hmm?" Byleth replied, his eyes following a pale cat.

"When we go to Garreg Mach, we'll have far too many people who like cake in the same town."

"There's you, my charming artist." Byleth teased.

"Lysithea and Bernadetta." Edelgard added.

"Jeritza, Mercedes and Annette." Byleth said a moment later.

"Raphael. Even worse if we somehow find Ingrid there." Edelgard complained.

"Then I have a suggestion." Byleth said seriously as they reached the end of the line at the teahouse.

"What is it?" Edelgard asked as Byleth put his head down on her shoulder, his voice dangerously close to her ear.

"We hide the sugar and eggs." Byleth said with a malicious tone to his voice. "They cannot make cake without those things."

"Surely not. We must hide the milk as well." Edelgard declared.

The man before them turned around, frowned, blinked, and whispered something to the woman next to him.

The woman turned around, her jaw falling down as she stared at Edelgard inside Byleth's arms.

"Lovely evening we are having." Edelgard blurted out quickly, desperate to avoid being outed so early in the night.

The woman nodded as she turned around to her husband, the two sharing a knowing glance as they gestured for Edelgard and Byleth to go forward.

Edelgard shook her head in response. "No, we're content with being alone for a little while longer."

The couple before them shared another glance before a pair of children ran between their legs, their laughter lighting up the air as they played in the warm summer air.

* * *

The sun had long since set below the horizon when Gilbert at last reached the relative safety of Dominic territory, his horse breathing heavily as he looked about the land.

To a certain extent, he felt immense pride at the row upon row of corn that blanketed the roadsides, but the corn also provided a hiding place for bandits, rogues, and imperial army patrols sent to take him down.

Gilbert rode on, his horse pausing again as he reached a long, deserted crossroad.

He glanced at the town he was once lord of, dim flickers of flame making the town visible even with the lack of sunlight.

Turning around, Gilbert turned and found the castle he had dreaded to see for so long.

The fortress of Dominic loomed in the background, made of a strong, pale stone.

For a moment, Gilbert felt a slow longing. A painful homesickness that made even breathing difficult as tears formed.

Gilbert hastily wiped his face before he turned to the fortress.

"Lord Dominic?" A voice from behind him called, freezing him in place mid turn.

"Why are you so heavily armoured?" The voice asked with concern. "And where did you find such heavy armour?"

Gilbert cleared his throat as he prepared to do his best vocal impression of his brother before a second voice froze the blood in his veins.

"Thomas! What the hell is going on?" His brother roared. "We were heading into town to turn the rabbit in!"

The man behind him seemed stunned. "Lord Dominic?"

"Thomas!" Gilbert's brother roared again. "The sisters in the town needed that rabbit an hour ago!"

Gilbert turned to the knight, staring down the younger man.

"Lord- Gustave?"

"Thomas what in-"

"Hello Gregory." Gilbert said quietly.

"Gustave. What are you doing here?" Gregory Dominic asked, his face hard as he glanced around.

"The capital has fallen."

"Yes. Thank you for telling me last month's news." Gregory Dominic scoffed. "Why are you here?"

"I have come here to ask for your aid."

Gregory Dominic nodded grimly. "So be it. What is it that you desire?"

"I am obliged by my oath to rally the last of the Kingdom's forces."

"Lovely." The ruling Baron Dominic sneered. "The only Kingdom soldiers in this town are wounded veterans. They tell me that you stood by when Fhirdiad burned to the ground."

Gilbert Dominic tightened his jaw as he looked at his brother. "Is that your answer?"

"Before my hunt, I spent the day consoling men and women who will never be the same again. Tell me brother." Gregory Dominic hissed, the last word hard and close to a snarl. "Did you even attempt to save the civilians whose lives depended on you? Or did you stand by and _watch_ as they burned with the capital?"

The silence that hung in the air was thick as the other man looked on at the sight of the two brothers.

"Get out of my sight." Gregory Dominic hissed, his face stony with rage. "From this day forward, I have no brother."

Gilbert Dominic paused for a moment before he spoke. "I will go into town."

"No." Gregory Dominic replied. "A death at the hands of the imperial garrison here is much better than what you deserve. Depart at once, or I will take your head from your shoulders myself."

Gilbert Dominic glanced at the cold, murderous face of his brother before he turned around.

Gregory Dominic watched silently as the disgraced knight disappear into the dark.

"Let's go Thomas. There are hungry soldiers who need food. They will need care before they can return to their regular lives."

"Yes sir." Thomas replied as he glanced at the distant road that Gilbert Dominic had disappeared down. "What about him?"

"I don't care about him. He once swore an oath to protect House Blaiddyd. But he shattered that oath into a thousand pieces when he chose to let Fhirdiad burn without lifting a finger."

Thomas turned to the older lord before glancing at the dark road again, though all he saw were distant rows of corn. "I-"

"Let's not talk anymore about it. We've wasted our breath enough." Gregory Dominic snarled. "There are more important matters that await us in town."

Thomas nodded as the two men rode into town, rabbits in hand.

* * *

Byleth and Edelgard sat in the warm summer night as a waiter hurried to their table.

"What will it be?" The man asked as he smiled at his two quiet guests.

"Cake sampler for both of us." Byleth replied as he flipped about the menu. "Hresvelg Blend for tea. Iced."

The man beamed. "Of course. An excellent choice. Grown locally."

Edelgard nodded as she turned back to the street. "That will be all. Thank you."

The waiter nodded as he turned back around, pausing for a moment. "Would that be the summer platter or the winter platter?"

"The winter platter is too sweet for this time of the year." Edelgard replied. "The summer platter will suffice."

"I have no idea what's the difference, so I'll go with the summer platter with her."

"Of course." The waiter said as he turned away. "Two summer platters. Coming up."

"You do like your cake." Byleth said warmly as the waiter left them alone again.

"That's true." Edelgard replied. "I used to come here as a little girl with my mother."

"Was it always like this?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard nodded. "Even when I came here during the war, this market was still running, strong as ever."

"What's the difference between the summer and winter platters?" Byleth asked as he faced Edelgard.

"The winter platter has a heavy jam component. Berries and fruits don't last long in winter unless preserved. Once preserved, it can be used any time of the year."

"I see." Byleth replied as the waiter returned, a large pitcher in his hands.

"Hresvelg Blend. Iced." The man said. "Will that be all?"

"We'll keep the menu here." Edelgard replied as Byleth poured her a tall glass of the pale tea. "Until then, no."

The waited nodded as he hurried away, his pace brisk.

Byleth chuckled at something a moment later.

"What's so funny?" Edelgard asked as she looked suspiciously at her professor.

"Hubert can't get you to read documents until we get to Garreg Mach."

A bright smile lit up her face. "I'm sure we can find ways to ah- keep occupied."

"Three days on the road does sound painful." Byleth said quietly. "But it is what it is."

* * *

"Have we met before?" Shamir asked Hawthorne when Hubert finally left for the palace, the other guests on his heels.

Hawthorne paused as he glanced at the woman before him. "Indeed. We met a few nights ago. In the basement of a bar."

Shamir snorted. "I meant before the war."

"How did you come to Fodlan?" Hawthorne asked as he leaned back into his chair, his face grim as he let out a slow sigh.

"Boat." Shamir replied characteristically.

"From the capital of Brigid. Yes."

Shamir blinked. "You knew then."

"I was rather surprised when I realized you had stowed away on a smuggling ship out of all things."

"You captained that ship?" Shamir asked, surprised.

"No, but I remember a scrawny little girl almost slipping away when the boat reached the dock."

"Were you expecting me?" Shamir asked, frowning at the memory.

"No. I figured the voyage would have been secret enough to not warrant more crew than the absolute minimum. Clearly, I had been wrong."

"What was it that you were transporting?"

"Dried tea." Hawthorne replied.

"You fidget your hands when you lie."

"You remember me from the village of Ochs then." Hawthorne replied. "I was the man who handed you the bow in exchange for the crate you had stolen."

"Were you serious about wanting to hire me?" Shamir asked. "You said it with a straight face at the time."

"You would have been a liability and a potential threat to my organization. So no. I would not have hired you." Hawthorne replied. "Still, I'm glad to see that you are alive and well."

Shamir nodded. "I wouldn't have damaged your organization."

Hawthorne frowned. "I couldn't have known that at the time. I didn't get where I am today by being overly trusting. Still, a bow in exchange for stolen Brigid treasures is a worthy trade in my book."

Shamir paused. "The bow you provided me helped me reach Kingdom territory."

Hawthorne nodded. "I'm glad to know that it served you well."

"I wound up sick. Probably ate something I shouldn't have." Shamir sighed as she brushed a strand of hair from her face.

"There's a considerable amount of plants and animals which are dangerous to your health."

"I know. The Knights of Seiros found me."

"And the rest is history." Hawthorne replied. "Would you like to return to Dagda?"

Shamir frowned. "No. I can't say I do."

"Is there more you have to do in Fodlan?" Hawthorne replied.

"No. I have a contract with the Empire. After that, no."

Hawthorne nodded before he turned to face the night sky. "I see."

"What didn't you tell Byleth?"

"There's a great deal I didn't tell him. I didn't tell him about my whole life."

"But you hid information from him."

"Correct, but it's not my place to tell him when they can tell him themselves."

Shamir nodded. "I understand that."

"When and if they tell him will depend on them. I will not interfere."

Shamir sighed as she too turned to the darkening sky. "When the time comes, there will be a reckoning."

"As it should be. The three of them had one chance to come clean. Not one of them took the full chance. Perhaps there will be a chance in the future, but I doubt it."

Shamir nodded. "Are you going to tell me?"

Hawthorne nodded. "Of course, but I must first see to it that Monica is well prepared."

Shamir nodded as the older man rose to his feet.

"Feel free to indulge in the wine here. It's not like I'll be able to drink all of it." Hawthorne offered as he left the room.

* * *

"I must apologize." The waiter offered as he returned to their table with only a single platter of cake. "It would appear that we have run out of cake for the night."

"We can split this sampler then." Byleth replied. "Still, is there anything you have?"

"We have plentiful pastries. Croissants, chocolatines."

"Get us three croissants and a pair of chocolatines." Edelgard said.

"Of course." The waiter said as he turned away, hurrying into the crowd.

"Cake." A voice chirped.

Edelgard and Byleth turned, their eyes settling on a small girl who stood before their table.

"Erm." Edelgard started, a neat cut of cake already hovering in front of her mouth.

"Cake." The child repeated again, pointing at the cake that Edelgard had on her fork.

"Yes. This is cake." Edelgard confirmed for the child.

Byleth chuckled as he similarly cut a piece of the same small cake, his fork gently poking Edelgard's lips as she was distracted with the child.

Edelgard turned quickly, devouring the cake a moment before turning back to the child.

"Do we know her?" Byleth asked as he spared the child a glance. "I don't."

"It's one of the children in line ahead of us." Edelgard replied.

"Cake." The girl said again.

"She wants cake?" Byleth asked Edelgard, his eyebrows rising.

Edelgard replied by lifting the plate off the table, levelling the platter within reach of the child.

The girl made a sound of joy as she snatched a piece of cake from the plate, disappearing into the crowd a moment later.

Byleth and Edelgard watched quietly as the girl disappeared, a slice of cake in her hands.

"What was that cake anyways?" Byleth asked.

"Hmm?"

"The cake that the girl ran off with."

Edelgard shook her head and smiled. "If nothing else, she has very good taste."

"What was it?"

"A cake I can't pronounce, but it was my mother's favourite."

"Is that so?" Byleth asked. "Do you like it?"

"I like all cake." Edelgard replied. "That particular cake just brings back memories for me."

"What do you mean?" Byleth asked. "Also, do you wish for me to get the cake back?"

Edelgard laughed at the suggestion. "The sight of you chasing down a little girl for a piece of cake would be such a silly sight."

"And Hubert winning the White Heron Cup wasn't?"

"When I think about Hubert and funny, I rather think about Deideru."

"Innnnnngriiiid!" Byleth laughed in his best impersonation of the unfortunate man.

"I couldn't hear him, if I must be honest. The wind was blowing too hard."

"Cake." The girl said again.

Byleth and Edelgard turned again as the girl returned to their table.

"Cake." The girl said, her cream covered finger pointed at Edelgard.

Her parents, the couple who stood before them in line, stood slack jawed as their daughter pointed at the emperor of the Adrestian Empire.

"Your daughter likes cake." Edelgard offered quietly as Byleth fed her another fork.

"I'm so sorry that had to happen." The woman stammered, keenly aware she was speaking to the emperor herself. "She was upset that we wouldn't get her cake until after we finished our meal."

Edelgard shrugged. "It was only a single piece. There wasn't anything to it."

"We are sorry either way." The woman said as her husband carried the child away, scampering into the crowd.

Edelgard shrugged as the woman seemed to fret. "There's nothing to be sorry for. It was a piece of cake, nothing more."

"Think nothing of it." Byleth said as he balanced an entire piece of cake on a fork, expertly nudging the sweet in Edelgard's direction.

The stunned woman bowed hastily before she ran away, as if she feared Edelgard changing her mind.

"Am I truly so intimidating?" Edelgard asked as the woman disappeared into the crowd.

"I don't." Byleth said. "But that's only because I've gotten to know you. The world doesn't know the loving artist who dreams of lazy days of sweets."

Edelgard flushed. "Don't mention that to a soul!"

"Sure. I'll tell it to the world. That's not a soul."

Edelgard darkened another shade, no longer willing to meet Byleth's eyes. "Please don't. That's so childish of me to dream of such things."

"But one day that will be reality. So we need to find good cake for that day."

"My mother loved sweets." Edelgard said softly. "I must have inherited her sweet tooth."

Byleth nodded quietly as the waiter returned with their tea, along with promises that the rest of their food would not be long.

"May I pour tea for you?" Byleth asked as he gestured to the large jug that sat between them.

"Please do." Edelgard replied as she sank back into her chair, her eyes fluttering shut.

"Are you tired?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard opened her eyes again, though a single tear slipped from a corner of her eye.

Byleth nearly leapt out of his seat, though his upper body froze in place.

Edelgard noticed Byleth's sudden change and seemed to realize the tear that had slipped out.

"Oh." Edelgard said softly, frantically blinking, as if to desperately avoid more tears. "I-"

"El. Let it out."

Edelgard seemed to flinch at the words, her posture freezing as she fought to get her emotions under control. "I'm fine."

"You aren't." Byleth replied. "Whatever you need to say, let it out."

Edelgard glanced at Byleth before looking at her hands again.

"I thought of it all. My mother, my father, my oath. Everything."

Byleth remained silent for a moment before pausing, the meddling waiter hurrying over with a stream of apologies.

"It's fine." Byleth said with a flick of his wrist. "We'll be back, just make sure the pastries are ready then."

"Of course." The waiter stuttered before slipping back into the crowd.

"El. I have an oath to swear alongside you. Is there any place in Enbarr you know for such a thing?"

Edelgard downed her glass of tea as her eyes wandered beyond Byleth.

"Yes. There's a place I need to go as well."

Byleth nodded as he rose from his seat, a coin of a very large denomination left on the small table.

"We are done here. No change is needed." Byleth said to a stunned waitress, gawking at the large coin.

* * *

The mist had thickened greatly when Gilbert finally decided to dismount for the night, grimacing as he realized that the last of his rations were depleted.

He dismounted slowly, a lifetime of scars gnawing at his willpower as he forced himself against a tree, his eyes closing slowly.

A human scream forced his eyes open again, Gilbert grasping at his lance as he scrambled to his feet, his injuries biting into his flesh as he staggered, using the tree to balance his movement.

Gilbert leaned heavily on his lance for a moment, wiping a layer of sweat from his brow. His action was rewarded, and pain tore into him as he felt his blood leak into his underclothes.

Gilbert staggered to one knee as his breathing became laboured, the face of his daughter filling his mind as he tried to desperately remember her face.

Even as his body failed, a single memory rose to the surface of his faltering mind, and Gilbert felt a sense of pride at seeing her, if only for a moment, dragging an injured family from the burning ruins of Fhirdiad.

"Annette." Gilbert whispered as he collapsed, his awkward landing causing him to turn slowly to one shoulder in an effort to block out the pain.

It wasn't enough. Pain still chewed into Gilbert as he forced his eyes closed.

In the dark of his own mind, Gilbert tried again to picture his family, his thoughts fading as Annette's face flickered and failed within his own memories.

With his body failing, Gilbert could no longer force his eyes closed, and his tired eyes stared up at the pale moon.

But it wasn't a moon.

A pale, slender face looked back down at him, an angel having come to claim him.

But somewhere in his dying mind Gilbert recognized the face, though the name escaped him.

* * *

They walked slowly through Enbarr's streets, the warm summer breeze gently pushing the wispy clouds along.

"We should be there soon." Edelgard said as they passed a street performance, a half dozen men and women joining a public dance circle.

Byleth nodded as he followed her down a side road, frowning as he realized their direction.

"The graveyard again?"

A sigh escaped Edelgard before she nodded. "Yes. I haven't visited my mother's grave since the war broke out."

"Oh." Byleth replied as he followed close behind her, the air quiet as they passed the stone walls around the graveyard.

They walked in silence as darkness surrounded them, Edelgard leading by memory and instinct.

"We are here." Edelgard said softly as they reached a small stone, unmarked except for the eagle that was carved into the smooth stone.

Byleth paused behind Edelgard as she slowly fell to her knees, her legs folded under her as she sat before the grave.

"Hello mother." Edelgard said softly as Byleth stood vigil. "Hello father. The war is over."

Byleth glanced over her shoulder, a question on his tongue.

"I had cake again today. The same one we had before we had to flee Enbarr."

Edelgard paused for a moment, as if she was looking for the right words.

"The professor. I- well, my feelings weren't unrequited."

Byleth clasped his hands awkwardly behind his back before he lowered himself to the tiny grave.

Up close, the gravestone looked like it could have been carried off by hand.

"Mother. Father, I'd like you to meet my partner. The professor. Byleth."

"Hello." Byleth started awkwardly, glancing down at the tiny grave before him. "I'm Byleth."

The air remained quiet around them for a moment as they both knelt before the grave, waiting.

"Father. I'm not done with my oath yet. When I am, well-"

"Our oath." Byleth cut in. "Your burdens are mine. We walk the same path now."

Edelgard nodded as she inched closer to him. "Yes. That's right."

"Emperor Ionius, Lady Patrica. Our oath to rid Fodlan of the evil that sleeps below isn't complete yet. But we will. No more will Fodlan have to suffer under their cruel hands."

"Mother, father. I'm going on a journey." Edelgard whispered. "I don't know how long I'll be gone, but when I'm back, my- our oath will be fulfilled."

* * *

Byleth sat quietly against a tree that had been planted off to the side of the grave, Edelgard leaning into his chest.

"When I-" Edelgard started, her voice failing after two words. "When I met with you today, I realized there was still so much that you didn't know."

Byleth wrapped his arms around Edelgard in turn, and the two enjoyed the warm summer breeze.

"I'm sorry." Edelgard said, pressing her face against the nape of Byleth's neck. "Even when I swore to walk the same path as you, it seems that I had kept you in the dark."

Byleth brought his head down to bear, gently trapping Edelgard in place.

"El. Was there anything about the Shambhalans that I need to know?"

A sigh escaped Edelgard as she closed her eyes, a single tear escaping down her face. "Yes."

Byleth tensed at the tiny betrayal, and Edelgard flinched.

"I spoke with Adrasteia once." Edelgard whispered.

"You did?" Byleth asked, suddenly tense.

"I didn't see his face, he was wearing a mask, but he had told me Hubert had attempted to break me out of the dungeons."

"Would that have been part of Hubert's talk about working with them?"

"He also said that if it wasn't for my mother, he wouldn't have had to waste his time."

"What did he mean by that?"

"I don't know. Even now I haven't spoken even to Hubert about it."

"Do you think that Hubert may have seen his face?"

"I don't know. I never saw Adrasteia's face, and I only spoke with him once."

Byleth nodded as Edelgard yawned.

"I-, it's been a long day."

"For both of us." Byleth replied as he pressed his head back to the tree.

Edelgard blinked again as she paused.

"Professor, if I fall asleep, could you wake me?"

"I will." Byleth promised, sighing as Edelgard sunk back into him, her breathing becoming slow and peaceful as sleep claimed her.

For a few precious minutes, Byleth savoured the warm Enbarr night, marvelling at the quiet forest around him.

"I lied." Byleth said as he gently pulled Edelgard's legs to one side, his other arm supporting her back as he raised her up, her head still resting on his chest.

He left the graveyard slowly, the city around him still alive, with thousands of candles and lights refusing to yield to the night above.

Edelgard shifted in his arms as they passed a particular intersection, her voice tired with a mild hint of annoyance.

"Professor, I asked you to wake me."

"I declined." Byleth replied as he planted a small kiss on her forehead. "Besides, I don't think you mind this, do you?"

Edelgard buried her head into his chest in response, her words lost to the celebration of Enbarr's citizens.

But Byleth could tell what she had said, even as he gazed up, into the dark.

"El, let's just enjoy this one night together. Tomorrow, we can get back to the warpath."

Edelgard didn't reply in words, but the slight shift of her body against his was enough.

Part One. Complete.

* * *

**AN: **Very little has been changed in this chapter over the course of the mini-rewrite.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: A Changing World.

* * *

"Shambhala." Spite barked as he reached the assembled forces, a cold certainty in his walk. "Your lord calls on your service."

Some three hundred men and women stood rigid as Spite opened a manila folder.

"Herald squad. Report." Spite barked.

A man from the third row marched forward. "Herald One. Ready to serve."

"How many men do you have at your disposal?" Spite asked.

"My full battalion is standing by."

"Bring half. We are only hunting a handful of traitors, not a full battlegroup."

The man nodded and snapped his fingers at a group of marksmen, all of whom saluted in reply.

"Lord Spite!" A voice shouted from the large machine bay that lead to the outside world. "Summon Lord Spite! We captured a deserter!"

A ripple shifted through the crowd as two women dragged a ragged soldier through the cavity, their captive struggling to escape, though both of his legs were bent at impossible angles.

"Lord-oh. Everyone is already here." The first woman said as she looked up from her prisoner.

"At ease corporal." Spite replied as he pulled a dagger from within his coat, the infamous Athame glittering in the lights of the machine hall. "Now, report."

The two women flinched as he approached them with the blade, exchanging a nervous glance as one took a step back.

"Corporal. What is it that you have brought us?" Spite asked as he reached the two sentries and their prisoner.

"A group of deserters attempted to flee under our watch. We managed to take this one alive." The second sentry blurted out.

"Where is the rest of your patrol?" Spite asked. "You should have one more soldier."

"He stayed behind. He gave chase to the traitors. We took this one back." The woman said quickly.

Spite nodded as he gestured for the cook to come forward. "Is this one of the deserters you once worked with?" Spite asked as he pressed his Athame into the man's throat, forcing his battered face into the light.

The woman flinched at the sight of the blade drawing blood, but nodded. "Yes. He's one of the others."

"Their team consisted of five people." Odesse offered helpfully from the side. "So that means three more to hunt down."

"Is Odesse correct?" Spite asked the two sentries, planting a hard kick into the injured man as he pulled his dagger away.

"Yes. Three others made their escape past our post."

"And the three of you only managed to stop one?" Odesse asked as he glared at the two sentries.

"Odesse, have you ever tried to hit fleeing targets with a bow?" Spite asked, his tone a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

The younger mage blinked. "Pardon?"

Herald One facepalmed, the stoic unity of the other Shambhalans broken as they exchanged glances and disguised laughs as coughing.

"When was the last time you had used a bow?" Spite asked as he turned his eyes to the younger man, his face a mask of exasperation.

Odesse took a small step back, but failed to respond.

"I asked you a question. Not answering to a superior officer is a crime."

"Back in Shangri-la. I last used a bow in Shangri-la." Odesse managed.

"Odesse, when was the last time you had even used or maintained a physical weapon?"

"I polished your staff."

"It's a staff of office. It doesn't actually do anything." Spite said with a roll of his eyes. "The only use I would ever have for it is as a bludgeon."

Someone in the mass of soldiers laughed openly at the comment.

Spite sighed as he looked away from Odesse. "I hope you know what the word bludgeon means."

The blank look on Odesse's face spoke volumes, as did the scornful murmurs of the gathered soldiers.

Spite let out a low hiss before he turned over to the two sentries, seemingly having remembered that there was a prisoner. "One of you, take this miserable worm to a holding cell. Once the others deserters are neutralized, I will return to make an example of him. Maim him however you wish, but he will only die at my hand."

One of the women nodded and dragged the man forward, a half dozen soldiers breaking their formation to assist the woman.

Spite turned away from the crowd an focused on the distant sky. When he turned back to the crowd, a hunting party of archers had joined Herald One.

"As much as I hate the idea, Odesse will take over the base until I return. This hunt should take two days at most." Spite said as he gestured for the archers to move out.

The humiliated mage nodded as the rest of the assembled archers gave him dirty looks as they passed, the hunting party slipping away into the night.

Spite was the last to leave, pausing only to face the remaining ranks of soldiers who still remained in formation.

"You are all dismissed." Spite barked before he turned and hurried after the half dozen archers waiting outside Shambhala.

* * *

Macuil woke up about a third of the way into the night, a particularly strong breeze having spat hot, humid air into his face.

He stood up and put his back to the hot, unbearable air, taking in a long, deep breath in the process.

The air was foul, the stench of the Agarthans overpowering his senses.

Macuil glanced over to where his prisoner had laid hours prior, finding only a thin blood trail that disappeared into the woods, the path of his enemies defined by broken branches and fallen leaves.

Macuil took three gingerly steps to the place he had dumped the hellspawn of the Elites, finding little but bloodstains that had sunk into and corrupted the earth around where the wounded girl had lain.

"Agartha." Macuil growled as he tested his sore body, yawning again as he stretched his limbs. Perhaps he should have deployed his followers after all.

He smiled ruefully as he remembered the dying screams of the Agarthan warband that had tried to kill him.

If he slaughtered the last of their leaders, perhaps he could sleep some more in peace.

* * *

It was close to dawn when a dozen archers forced Ashe to sit down, the men and women of his personal retinue glaring him down as he was slowly separated from his horse.

"Boss. We know you are worried." One archer said as she approached him, her steps in lockstep with the others, shrinking the space where he could escape. "But throwing yourself in a vague direction is not going to help us."

"But-" Ashe protested feebly.

"No buts. You will take a rest. You have been awake for much longer than what is healthy." The senior archer in his brigade replied coldly.

"We will wake you when the sun is up, but make no mistake, all of our mounts are exhausted. There is no going further until we rest." The first archer to speak said sternly.

Ashe sunk quietly into his bedroll as he let out a deep sigh, the image of Ingrid's dented armour plate burning into his mind.

Something inside him clicked, but the haze of exhaustion had dulled his senses, and his mind failed to connect the dots, right up until sleep claimed him.

* * *

Daybreak had hit before Felix and Sylvain finally were able to meet up with their two colleagues within the city.

"Ferdinand, Caspar." Sylvain greeted as they approached the north of the city. "What did we find?"

Both men were grim, their faces stony as they exchanged a wary glance.

"Multiple dead." Ferdinand said grimly. "Most of the victims have been torn to ribbons."

"We didn't have any forces here." Felix replied. "Where are these dead coming from?"

"We don't know." Ferdinand said as he wiped away a sheen of sweat from his forehead, his features hard. "They aren't our forces."

"Refugees? Looters?" Felix asked.

"Neither. They were very heavily armed. Looters would not carry heavy weapons and all the kingdom soldiers left are either dead or have surrendered."

"What about Gilbert?" Felix asked.

"He's gone into the wind." Ferdinand admitted quietly. "We haven't seen or heard of him for some time."

"Have we made contact with Baron Dominic?" Felix asked.

"No. That front of the war was under the command of Jeritza." Ferdinand replied. "We have made no contact of note with church or kingdom forces for the time being."

"Then who the hell were these people?" Sylvain asked.

"Bandits wouldn't come here." Ferdinand replied. "Nothing to pillage, especially with so much of the army being so close by."

The four men paused for a moment before Caspar broke the silence. "I wonder what Ingrid and Ashe are doing?"

"What do you mean by that?" Felix scoffed. "The two of them are off doing knight things. As usual."

"I just wonder what the other two were thinking, running off without supplies." Caspar observed.

"He's right." Sylvain interjected. "Ashe went back to camp to rally his personal battalion. Why didn't Ingrid?"

The four men exchanged glances until Felix finally broke off the contest, his eyes wandering as he walked away from the other three men.

"You need to take a look at this." Felix called from a distance away.

"What's wrong?" Ferdinand asked. "You sound concerned."

"This armour plate. It belongs to Ingrid."

* * *

Dorothea arrived at the palace at the same time as Monica, the two women sharing a knowing smile as their footmen hauled heavy trunks out of their carriages, clearly not used to carrying such heavy trunks so early in the day.

"Shall we leave our trunks by the door?" Monica asked as she nodded in Dorothea's direction in greeting.

"No." Dorothea replied. "Someone will probably trip on it. Hubie has terrible luck these days."

Monica nodded as her footman put the heavy trunk down by the door.

"That's fine." Both Dorothea and Monica said at the same time, both of their drivers staring blankly at them for a moment before turning away, back to their carriages.

"So where are we?" Monica asked, glancing around at the room around them as she hauled her luggage into the beautiful hall.

"Private wing of the imperial palace." Hubert replied from behind them.

Monica nearly tripped over her feet as she scrambled up, her hand on her chest as Dorothea frowned.

"Hubie, why are you here alone?"

"Lady Edelgard has yet to wake." Hubert replied with a frown. "The professor too. It seems like they came back last night very late."

"Did you?" Dorothea shot back.

"You watched me leave the lodge with Bernadetta." Hubert replied. "Still, I did go to sleep after she did."

"Where did she sleep anyways? It's not like she has a place in Enbarr."

"She slept in my bed." Hubert replied.

"And where did you sleep Hubie?" Dorothea asked.

"In my chair, which is much less comfortable than my bed, I assure you."

"Hubie. That's very sweet of you." Dorothea replied.

"Whatever the case, we are only waiting on Lady Edelgard and the professor." Hubert said as he glanced in the vague direction of the royal bedroom. "The others have already made it here."

"Where do we leave our luggage?" Monica asked.

"It will be fine to leave it here. I will see to it that it is added to your carriage."

"We are going by carriage?" Dorothea asked.

"In part." Hubert replied. "Shamir has stated that she will ride ahead of the main train. Bernadetta and I will see to it that the back of our convoy enjoys the same level of protection."

"Anything for Edie." Dorothea commented.

"Naturally" Hubert replied. "Now, hurry along. There still may be breakfast that has yet to be served."

"Helpful today aren't we Hubie?" Dorothea laughed as she gestured for Monica to follow, the red haired girl only giving Hubert a glance before hurrying after Dorothea.

* * *

Edelgard knew she was dreaming. The empty imperial palace was enough proof of that.

But the palace was different from what she remembered. For one, it was damaged, badly no less.

She passed the central foyer, the walls splattered with blood.

She hastened her pace, the walls of the palace breaking and failing as she walked.

The throne room called to her. It had been of course, where she had been torn away from her father.

It was also where he was said to have died. Ten years to the day when his children were torn from his arms.

None of them had been there.

Edelgard threw the doors to the throne room open, her eyes taking a slow moment to understand the abomination that blocked out the sun.

It was tall humanoid, though its height and mass made it horrifically obvious that it wasn't human. Sickly pale-brown muscle was interwoven with dead grey skin.

And the face that stared back was her own.

Edelgard screamed.

* * *

"El!" Byleth shouted as he desperately clung to Edelgard, his grip tightening as he was tossed about like a rag doll.

Despite Edelgard's short, slender frame, she was still impossibly strong, even when desperately fighting off her fever dreams.

"Your majesty!" Hubert shouted a moment after the doors to the bedroom were thrown open.

An awkward turn later, Byleth hit the ground with a wince, Hubert hastily rushed toward the bed, also desperate to stop Edelgard from hurting herself in her nightmare.

A moment after Hubert had managed to get hold of Edelgard, Hubert was also tossed off the bed, his fall broken by Byleth.

Both men winced as Hubert climbed hastily off Byleth, their collective vision on the thrashing Edelgard.

Hubert and Byleth shared a glance as Monica and Dorothea rushed in, their faces concerned as they froze at the doorway.

"Hubie! Edie!" Dorothea shouted as they rushed to the bed, Edelgard whispering names that none of them understood.

Monica grabbed a pitcher of water from the nightstand.

"No!" Hubert cried as he circled the bed, careful to avoid Edelgard, his voice and the murderous glare on his face freezing Monica in place.

On the other side of the bed, Byleth snatched Edelgard's hand, his grip firm but gentle as Edelgard fought desperately to free her trapped hand, to no avail.

"El." Byleth whispered as Edelgard turned her full body toward him, subjecting his head to flailing hit after flailing hit.

To his surprise, Edelgard's eyes flew open, her violet against his blue.

To his horror, he saw a moment of pure terror in her eyes before she recognized him.

"El." Byleth replied.

Edelgard replied by pulling him forward, breathing heavily as she pressed herself to him.

"I- I had a nightmare."

"Monica. Get her a glass of water." Hubert ordered.

Edelgard tensed in Byleth's arms at the sound of Hubert's voice, and Byleth glared at the three intruders.

Hubert seemed to suddenly realize that he was intruding on a private moment, as he hastily grabbed Dorothea and Monica and fled for the door, the latter still clinging to the jug of water.

"He's gone now." Byleth said as he gingerly inched himself on the bed next to Edelgard.

"I'm better now." Edelgard offered. "Let's-"

"We both know that isn't true." Byleth retorted. "Tell me about it."

Edelgard loosened as if she was a slowly deflating balloon, slowly rolling back to the centre of their bed, her eyes wandering over the high ceiling.

"I was in the palace." Edelgard said softly after a long minute. "The throne room."

"Shambhala?" Byleth asked.

"No. It wasn't them. The palace wasn't what it is today."

"What happened?" Byleth asked as he reached over, gently wiping a sheen of sweat from Edelgard's brow.

"I saw I-" Edelgard started, her hand seizing Byleth's hand as she spoke.

"Go on." Byleth said quietly.

"I saw a monster," Edelgard said as a shiver ran down her back.

"A dragon? The Immaculate One? A beast?"

"No. It-it had my face."

"What?" Byleth asked, stunned, his face confused.

"I saw myself but I-" Edelgard whispered, her breathing laboured as she broke off her sentence.

Byleth rubbed Edelgard's palm, the two of them silent for a moment.

"I saw a monster with my face." Edelgard whispered. "It just- was there."

"El. Tell me everything."

Edelgard paused for a moment as she squeezed her eyes shut, as if trying to summon the foul memory.

"I can't remember." Edelgard whispered. "But it had my face."

* * *

"Lord Spite!" A voice shouted as the warhost reached a ledge that overlooked one of the main overpasses that lead to Shambhala.

Spite nodded as he saluted the soldier, who saluted back.

"Walk me through what happened." Spite ordered as he glanced at the poorly maintained pathway below.

"We encountered four individuals who were attempting to sneak out without us noticing." The male sentry offered.

"We tried to fire warning shots at them, but we couldn't hit much in the dark."

"You managed to get one of them." Spite replied.

"Yes sir. The others left him behind."

Spite nodded. "How did the three of you get down there?"

"We scaled some of the less steep paths down. But it was too late to catch them."

"Yes. I can imagine a hasty retreat if someone believed their cover was blown." Spite replied as the other archers glanced at the steep slope that lead to the main path below. "The three of you did well, considering the situation."

The two sentries exchanged a glance before Spite glanced down the path. "I was told that you had chased down the other deserters."

"They broke off into multiple directions." The man offered weakly.

"I did not expect that you would catch any. Their head start and your lack of close quarters weapons means that it would have been a foolish prospect to risk engaging all of them in combat at once. You did as your duty called for."

The man looked away from their overlord, clearly embarrassed over his failure regardless.

"You sentries have had a long night. Head back out and rest. Dismissed."

Both sentries saluted and hurried back to Shambhala.

"What do we do now?" The lone woman amongst the kill team asked as she squatted down.

"Tell me about the other three." Spite ordered the only unarmed member of the party.

"Three?"

"We took one alive. You saw that. What do you have to say about the other three traitors?"

"They aren't very good at fighting." The woman offered. "None of us were."

"Perhaps that was too general of a question." Spite said quickly. "I want to know if they are familiar with the mountain and surrounding villages."

The woman shook her head. "None of us have ever left Shambhala for any more than a few minutes."

Spite nodded. "These mountains hold many dead ends and pitfalls for the unwary. It is possible some of them may have fallen victim to one of these already."

One of the other archers raised a hand. "Boss, what if we find one dead?"

"Tell me if such a thing happens. We can recover the body at a later date. Our priority is to eliminate ones who may still pose a threat to Shambhala. A traitor with a broken neck is of very little threat to us."

"Of course." The archer offered. "And what if by some stroke of dumb luck they did make it to a nearby town?"

"Then tell them the truth. We are a unit located in the mountains hunting for deserters from our ranks."

The warband leader chuckled at that. "The boss man isn't wrong about that part."

"Just don't mention that we live in a fortress under the mountain." Spite added as he rose to his feet.

"Naturally." The only female archer chuckled as she hopped to her feet.

"Let's move out." Spite said as the group jogged down the path of the outcropping. "There is much ground to cover."

* * *

The air was cool in the early hours of the morning when Yurius finally got tired of Lorenz snoring.

He left his bed with a sigh, tossing his hair back as he got dressed.

When he tossed back his shirt, he found the barely open eyes of Ignatz staring at him, the man wincing in pain as he crawled out of his bed.

"You sleep well?" Yurius whispered.

Ignatz shook his head and closed his eyes.

"Light is bad isn't it?" Yurius asked.

"Terrible." Ignatz groaned. "Never going drinking like that again."

"Let's get some food. Maybe a bath too."

Ignatz chuckled weakly as he inched out of the bed. "How do you think the girls slept?"

"I don't need to know that." Yurius grumbled. "Let me get changed first."

Ignatz nodded as he too changed hastily, giving a murderous glance at Lorenz as he left the room.

The surprise in the lobby was the mildly annoyed form of Mortis, still asleep on a large chair in the centre of the room.

Ignatz raised a slow finger to his lips before Mortis broke the silence.

"I'm awake already." Mortis sighed as she rose from her seat. "Sleep is difficult when your roommates snore."

Ignatz laughed weakly. "I'm sorry for that."

Mortis shrugged in reply. "It's not your problem. You weren't the one snoring."

"Leonie usually doesn't drink so much." Ignatz explained. "She was upset about captain Jeralt though."

"The one with the drinking bill?" Mortis asked.

Ignatz laughed weakly. ""That's the one. She drinks a lot when he gets brought up. He was an idol to her."

"He's been dead for a while now." Mortis said with a frown.

"We know. Sorry about Leonie's boasting. Avenging Jeralt should have been left to his son, not her."

"Avenging?" Yurius asked.

"Yes. About a month after Jeralt's death, we confronted his killer at Garreg Mach. Leonie just happened to get the last strike in."

Yurius glanced at Mortis, and flinched at the taut shape of her body.

"Hey Mortis, want to grab some food?"

Mortis turned to him with a slow sigh, tension still visible in her body, but no longer glaringly obvious.

"That's a good idea." Ignatz chuckled. "We should be on the road once Leonie wakes up. She'll be immensely hungover, but I suppose we could keep her inside the carriage."

"Let's talk over some food." Yurius said, gently nudging Mortis.

To his surprise, his partner nodded. "So be it."

"Are you not hungry?" Ignatz asked Mortis. "If you aren't, we could wait."

Mortis shook her head. "No. I just have a lot on my mind. Nothing more."

"I suppose we all do." Ignatz laughed weakly as he gestured for the two of them to follow him.

* * *

It took some time before Edelgard could leave Byleth's protective grip, the two of them entangled on their shared bed.

"I'm better now." Edelgard whispered softly, her arms still firm around Byleth's neck.

"I won't let them hurt you." Byleth replied as he let go, the two of them quiet as they relaxed back into their bed, side by side.

"Thank you professor." Edelgard replied.

Byleth frowned in reply. "El. I'd like to show you something before we leave Enbarr."

Edelgard blinked in response. "I'm fine. Really."

"El, please. Trust me." Byleth said.

Edelgard paused before she nodded. "Alright then."

* * *

"I thought you might try it." Felix said coldly as he stepped in the way of Sylvain.

Sylvain tensed at the sight of his friend, the Lance of Ruin still clutched in his hand.

"What you are doing is a suicide mission." Felix snarled as he took another step forward into Sylvain's path, his posture uncompromising as they stared each other down.

"What kind of knight will I be if I don't do this?"

"A knight who is capable of avenging his comrades." Felix snarled. "Ashe took with him a warband of the best marksmen in the entire empire to avenge Ingrid. What did you bring?"

Sylvain tightened his grip on the Lance of Ruin, Miklan's sneering face flashing through his thoughts.

"You are a coward." Sylvain hissed. "You would leave Ingrid and Ashe to die."

"And what tells you that Ingrid hasn't been torn to ribbons? What tells you that Ashe isn't already dead?"

"What's going on?" Caspar asked as he hurried over to the scene, his face concerned as he warily glanced between the two feuding friends.

"Yes, indeed. Why are the two of you fighting at a time like this?" Ferdinand asked as he stepped in between Sylvain and Felix. "It's true that Ashe has put us in a difficult spot, but that's no excuse to be fighting."

Sylvain and Felix changed wary glances, but otherwise remained silent.

Ferdinand paused for a moment before he turned to Sylvain.

"Sylvain. Get off your horse. Let us talk as equals."

Sylvain paused for a moment before he complied, hopping off his horse and standing before the other three.

"That's better." Ferdinand said as he glanced warily at the Lance of Ruin. "I wish to talk about the dead bodies we found in the capital."

The other three men turned their attention to the orange haired noble.

"What did you find?"

"One of the bodies had a symbol that I recognized." Ferdinand explained.

"So who were they?" Felix asked. "Looters? Renegade Kingdom forces?"

Ferdinand held up a small strip of cloth in turn, a white insignia of an eye visible against the black cloth,

"I don't get it." Sylvain said.

"During the Insurrection of the Seven, a group of soldiers were present in Enbarr wearing this symbol. After the coup was over, they disappeared."

Caspar grabbed the cloth from Ferdinand and studied it for a moment. "Nope. Don't recognize it. Sorry."

Felix shook his head after taking it from Caspar. "Don't believe I ever saw it before."

Sylvain glanced at the symbol. "Wait. I've seen it before."

"Where?" Ferdinand asked.

"Don't remember. It was before I came to Garreg Mach."

"How does this have to do with Ingrid?" Felix asked.

"It might not have been the dragon that took Ingrid." Ferdinand reasoned. "With so many heavy weapons, it is certainly possible that there were more of these mysterious soldiers fighting the dragon."

"So this mystery faction is going to do what with Ingrid again?" Felix asked.

"Wait!" Sylvain shouted, slamming his lance into the ground beside him. "I remember now."

"What is it?" Ferdinand asked.

"Cornelia had a hot bodyguard."

Caspar, Ferdinand, and Felix collectively facepalmed.

"This is not the time." Felix hissed, his hand reaching for his sword.

"She had that symbol on her uniform." Sylvain explained. "She had this symbol on a sleeve."

"Cornelia is dead." Ferdinand said. "And why didn't we see this bodyguard?"

Felix caught on. "You mean you met Cornelia before we fought her in Arianrhod?"

Sylvain nodded. "This was before the war. I remember seeing them in the capital."

Felix sighed. "Was this season the season after you chased after Lord Gwendal's daughter?"

"It was." Sylvain confirmed. "Both of them caught me staring at them though."

"Alright. So what does this have to do with our current case?" Felix asked.

"The fact that Cornelia was part of this secret cult would give them motive to strike at us, particularly while we were divided and vulnerable." Ferdinand reasoned. "They could have been watching us, waiting to strike."

"So it's possible that these guys just had beef with us?" Casper wondered out loud.

"And they grabbed Ingrid, possibly as a crime of opportunity, possibly out of a need to avenge Cornelia." Ferdinand muttered. "But where does the dragon fit in?"

All four men glanced at the ruined capital city.

"The bodies were found leading away from the Immaculate One." Felix said.

"A fighting retreat then." Ferdinand muttered. "What if this dragon arrived to reinforce the Immaculate One?"

"It's late." Felix replied. "By several weeks no less."

"Another dragon fighting for the church? The professor and Edelgard need to know about this." Caspar announced.

"It is possible that the dragon assumed that the other soldiers were the party that slew the Immaculate One." Ferdinand stated. "Which would explain why it attacked them rather than attack the army camp."

"This is just getting all kinds of weird." Caspar declared.

"Sylvain, could you confirm that Cornelia's bodyguard had this very same insignia?" Ferdinand asked Sylvain.

Sylvain took the small cloth and studied it quietly. "Yes. I can." He said after a long moment.

"What did this bodyguard look like?" Ferdinand asked.

"Tall, dark hair. Lightly dressed. On horseback. A real babe."

Ferdinand sighed. "I will ride down to Enbarr. Edelgard and the professor must know about this development."

"What about us?" Felix asked as Ferdinand made to move away.

"The question of Ashe is bugging me." Sylvain said.

"What do you mean?" Ferdinand asked, turning back to face the other three.

"His actions almost seem logical to me." Sylvain replied. "Had he been driven mad by a need for revenge, why would he take the time to round up his battalion to go with him?"

Ferdinand nodded. "Good point. He would have wasted precious time if his sole purpose was revenge."

"Maybe he thought that he could still save Ingrid?" Caspar asked.

"Whatever the case is, we don't know." Sylvain said grimly. "I still want to chase him down and get answers."

Felix gave Sylvain's mount a dirty look as Ferdinand nodded. "That may be our only choice. There are too many questions without answers."

Felix glared at Sylvain before he nodded. "Fine. Even if I stopped you now, you would still chase after Ashe in the middle of the night."

Ferdinand put a hand on Sylvain's shoulder before he turned away. "Be safe."

Sylvain nodded as he mounted his horse.

"Come back alive." Felix said grimly. "If you get hurt, you answer to me."

Sylvain nodded as he reared up his horse and began a strong gallop.

* * *

"Oh hello Marianne." Linhardt said as he entered the chapel of Garreg Mach. "Still praying?"

"I'm asking the goddess for forgiveness." Marianne replied without even turning around.

Linhardt frowned, but remained in place anyhow, watching silently as Marianne prayed.

It took a few more minutes before Marianne finished, finally facing Linhardt.

"Why are you here Linhardt?"

Linhardt paused as he sat down in one of the few pews that were still standing. "Well. I came to pray."

Marianne nodded as she sat next to him, the two of them silent for a long moment.

"I fear some days that I won't be able to finish my research in time." Linhardt said finally, breaking the mutual silence. "What use would this all be if I can't help Lysithea or Edelgard?"

Marianne sat silently as Linhardt buried his face in his hands.

"Do you think the goddess will forgive me?" Marianne asked.

"What for?" Linhardt replied, his face turned into a frown.

"My actions in Derdriu." Marianne replied. "With Hilda."

Linhardt shook his head. "I don't know."

"I regret it." Marianne said. "I regret hurting her."

Linhardt nodded quietly.

"I had a nightmare last night." Marianne said softly. "I was in Derdriu again and- and Hilda died in my arms."

Linhardt shook his head. "You didn't kill Hilda, Marianne."

"I remember calling on her, begging the goddess to bring her back." Marianne choked out.

"The war is over." Linhardt said softly. "We aren't enemies with Claude anymore. And you didn't kill Hilda."

Marianne nodded quietly as she sank back into the pew. "When do you think Manuela will get back?"

"Three, possibly four days. Enbarr isn't that far away."

Marianne nodded as she rose to her feet. "I'll be going now. There's much to do."

Linhardt nodded as he turned to watch Marianne leave, quietly turning back to the empty cathedral

* * *

"How are we going to pay the bill?" Lorenz asked his dining companions as the four of them sat in the dining area of a local diner, exchanging wary glances with Ignatz.

"That inn owner is scarier than Hubert." Ignatz laughed.

"Are you able to help us pay down the bill?" Lorenz asked the two other travellers, concern written over his face.

Mortis and Yurius exchanged a glance, but Mortis replied with a short shake of the head.

"We don't have that much money."

"But you helped us with the dress." Ignatz protested weakly.

"Because your friend already ruined it for the shopkeeper." Mortis shot back. "There was mud all in the frills."

Ignatz sighed. "Right. I forgot about that."

Lorenz shook his head as he sighed. "We are one night away from Myrddin. There we can gather up the funds to erm, solve our debts."

"I'd hate to see Jeralt's bill there." Yurius laughed.

"What are you saying about Jeralt huh?" Leonie snarled as she entered the dining hall.

"Leonie, he's talking about Jeralt's bar bill." Ignatz started.

Leonie replied by drunkenly throwing a fist in the general direction of Yurius, comically missing.

"How deep into the night did she drink?" Mortis asked as Yurius dodged the drunken attack.

"Far too deep it seems." Lorenz muttered.

"Nobody talks badly about captain Jeralt." Leonie spat.

Mortis frowned. "Why not? His drinking problem got us into this mess to begin with."

Leonie snarled as she turned to Mortis, her eyes glittering dangerously.

"Mortis-" Ignatz said nervously as he and Lorenz backed off, Yurius taking the hint as well.

"Why is he blameless?" Mortis shot back as she stood up, her head turned slowly as she sized up Leonie.

"Mortis, Leonie." Lorenz warned. "Let's talk about something else."

"Not until she apologizes." Leonie shot back. "Nobody insults captain Jeralt."

"No." Mortis replied. "He got us into this mess, and you certainly aren't helping."

"What's going on?" Maya asked as she popped into the diner, Evi nervously glancing at the scene before them.

"No fighting in my restaurant." The owner of the restaurant snarled as he entered the dining hall. "If you want to fight, do it outside."

"Let's sit down and finish breakfast first." Ignatz pleaded.

"Mortis, let's finish our food first." Yurius said quickly, pushing his partner back.

"But of course." Mortis replied, pulling her chair back as she sank back into her seat. "Let's finish our food."

A half dozen pairs of eyes slowly turned to Leonie.

"Come along now Maya. I'll order you some cake." Mortis said with a disarming smile.

Maya's face lit up as she dashed past Leonie. "Yes please!"

"What cake would you recommend?" Mortis asked the owner of the shop.

"Carrot cake is all that we have in store."

"Then we'll have two slices. My treat." Mortis said with a slight smile.

* * *

Byleth stood silently behind Edelgard in the throne room as they watched the sun shine through the beautiful mural behind the throne.

Edelgard let out a slow sigh as she turned to Byleth.

Byleth replied by embracing her, the two of them silent as they stood in the room.

"It was here." Edelgard whispered.

"I believe you." Byleth replied. "I always will."

Edelgard nodded as a foreign sensation built up in her chest. "I'm sorry. We should be on our way already, but here I am, worrying over a non-existent monster."

Byleth didn't say a word in turn, simply tightening his arms around Edelgard.

"We should get going soon." Edelgard said, breaking away from Byleth's embrace to take a final look at the throne.

"I want you to sit on the throne." Byleth replied.

"Huh?" Edelgard asked, clearly stunned by the sudden request. "The throne?"

"Just a request. Nothing more."

Edelgard frowned before she turned toward the throne, shielding her eyes from the rays of light as she ascended the golden steps.

"So I just sit down?" Edelgard asked.

"That's right."

Edelgard glanced at the empty throne before sliding into it, her skirts shifting as she settled into the red and gold throne.

For a moment Edelgard sat silent, her breath stolen by the view that the throne offered her.

"El." Byleth said as his face grew serious. "Never forget your oath when you took the crown."

Edelgard flinched at the words. "You remembered that?"

Byleth nodded. "In accordance with the ancient covenant."

"And in keeping with the Hresvelg legacy." Edelgard finished the line, her eyes closed as she remembered the day.

"I swear-" Byleth started the following line.

"I swear that upon this throne, I shall use my reign to lead Fodlan to a new dawn and achieve peace for all." Edelgard finished.

For a moment in her mind's eye, Edelgard saw her monsterous doppelganger again, standing at where she sat.

"In accordance to the ancient covenant, and in keeping with the Hraesvelg legacy. I swear that upon this throne, I shall use my reign to lead Fodlan to a new dawn and achieve peace for all." Edelgard repeated, in full.

The monster in her mind cracked and faltered, the corrupted strands of evil power crackling and fading.

"In accordance to the ancient covenant, and in keeping with the Hraesvelg legacy." Edelgard repeated, the last of the monster turning to dust as she repeated the words. "I swear that upon this throne, I shall use my reign to lead Fodlan to a new dawn and achieve peace for all."

Edelgard opened her eyes as she finished the last line, her eyes taking a moment to meet the eyes of Byleth.

"Thank you professor." Edelgard said as she stepped down from the throne. "For reminding us of why we fight."

"A new dawn and peace for all." Byleth said approvingly.

"A new dawn and peace for all." Edelgard replied as the two turned their backs on the throne.

Just as she left the palace, Edelgard turned one final time to look upon the central throne.

Her father stared back at her.

Edelgard blinked for a moment.

But her father smiled. For a moment, Ionius IX seemed to beam at his daughter.

And then he was gone.

"Something wrong?" Byleth asked, pausing as he turned to stare at Edelgard.

"No." Edelgard replied. "But we still have a war to win."

* * *

**AN: Chapter 12 is finished. Next chapter things will start moving again. **

**Review, follow, favourite, etc.**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Warpath.

* * *

The first body had only taken an hour to find.

"Boss!" A voice shouted as they climbed a difficult ridge. "There's a body!"

Spite glanced down, noting the broken human shape somewhere far below them.

"Is it one of ours?" Spite shouted back as he glanced down the ledge, the early morning light making gauging the drop difficult.

"Can't tell. It's probably dead though." The soldier yelled back.

Spite nodded as he glanced around the unfamiliar mountain path. "I'll head down there. If nothing else to confirm it's Shambhalan."

"How do you do that?" One of the other soldiers asked.

"I open up the sternum. A stone heart is Shambhalan. A heart of flesh is a savage."

"You going to be alright down there?" Herald One asked.

"I'm armed with my Athame and more than enough magic to send him to hell. I'll be fine."

Herald One nodded. "You all heard the boss man. Move forward."

"If the path ahead diverges, leave a marker for me to know where you went." Spite called as he mentally prepared a route to the body below.

"Gotcha." The lone female archer replied as Spite turned from the jagged path.

For a moment, the warband screeched to a halt as their leader deftly slid down the slope to the corpse, his descent slowed by his choice of route.

"Get moving!" Herald One shouted at his team as Spite reached the bottom of the gorge, pausing to wave the warband forward.

Spite turned quietly to the broken body as the last of the archers made their exit.

A single eye slowly tracked his moves as he came up to the body.

"Still alive are you?" Spite asked as he drew his Athame.

* * *

When she awoke, Ingrid tested her bonds gingerly, finding, much to her own disappointment, that the rope was strong.

"You're awake." A voice said.

Ingrid glanced up at the female voice, hidden behind a heavy plague doctor mask.

Ingrid opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

The woman paused for a moment before she leaned down, pressing a steel canteen to Ingrid's lips.

She hesitated for a minute before her exhaustion got the better of her, and she leaned her head back to drink.

The water inside was surprisingly warm, and Ingrid gagged and coughed when the other woman leaned the canteen too far.

And then the water was gone, the canteen hastily retrieved by her captor.

"Why are you helping me?" Ingrid asked as she felt a slight breeze against the wind, wincing as she realized her feet were bare.

The other woman glanced around for a moment before she looked back at Ingrid, slowly pacing about their camp.

Ingrid swallowed.

"The others left us to die."

Ingrid blinked. "Pardon?"

The woman sighed as she crouched down, and for a moment Ingrid locked eyes with her captor.

"The others stole my horse." The woman sighed as she gestured to a distant tree. "They fled south."

"Why did they leave?" Ingrid asked.

"Does it matter?" The woman asked with a bitter laugh, rising up from her crouch.

"Are they coming back?"

"The cowards are halfway to Agartha." Her captor replied with a sneer. "They won't be back."

"Why were you left behind then?" Ingrid asked.

"None of your business." The woman snarled back.

* * *

A single eye flickered as Spite approached the downed traitor, an orb of fire in hand as he stopped just beyond the reach of the man.

"I have nothing to say." The man choked out as Spite crouched close.

"You have two choices." Spite replied coldly. "You can choose to cooperate with me, and I'll kill you quick."

Spite paused to let the offer of mercy sink in, observing the man's other swollen eye.

"Or you can make this difficult for yourself." Spite threatened softly. "You could drag it out. Refuse to work with me."

The man spat at Spite in reply, though the action left him hacking for breath.

"You will tell me everything I want to know." Spite replied. "The only question is how much pain you will suffer in the process."

The man didn't reply, his damaged body wracked with pain.

"No answer?" Spite asked, a false note of disappointment in his voice.

The man's one able eye flickered to Spite's outstretched hand, dancing tongues of flame kept in place with his willpower.

Spite let the fire falter after a moment, choosing to pull out the ever polished Athame from a side pocket.

He stood tall for a moment, toying with the blade even as his eyes looked for weakness on the downed traitor.

Then he brought back the fire, stronger and wilder than before.

"I will offer you a chance to die without pain." Spite said as he leaned close to the man. "But I will offer you this death only once."

A single hacking cough was his reply.

Spite paused before he let his concentration falter, a single dancing tongue of flame strengthening as many more faded.

Then he forced the last tongue of flame down.

The unmistakable smell of burnt cloth wafted up to Spite as he turned away from the man, his eyes wandering to see where he could get out of the gully that he had slid down.

After a long moment, a gasp of pain escaped the man.

Spite replied to the information by testing a handhold on the mountain, finding the rock stable in the earth.

"Please!" The man cried in pain as Spite paused to polish Athame.

Spite raised an eyebrow as he scrubbed at a small spot on his hilt that had once been a spot of water, long since evaporated.

"They don't know where they're going!" The man blubbered as the flame gnawed at his flesh.

"That's not what I asked." Spite replied as he walked within kicking range of the injured man. "What I want to know is how you managed to butcher a simple meal in such an epic fashion."

"The others threw me down here!" The man yelped as Spite turned back to the burning man, frowning at the unmistakable smell of burning flesh.

"Who destroyed the crackers? Who ate all the cookies?" Spite asked as he crouched down close to the man's face. "Who was responsible for the meat going as bad as it did?"

"They wanted to run to Thales!" The man spluttered.

"Thales is at least three days travel away." Spite spat. "And that's assuming they escape the mountain in-"

"That's all I know!" The man cried out, cutting Spite off in the process. "Please! Stop the fire!"

Spite lit up a second tongue of flame, silencing the terrified man in the process.

"Let me finish." Spite said calmly.

The man shut his mouth quickly, though Spite could still hear his pained breathing.

"Like I was saying." Spite finished. "Thales in multiple days away from us. Your fellow traitors will not reach him. We will find your fellows. We will kill every last one of them. They will die slow, agonizing deaths.

A whimper escaped the other man.

"I will offer you a choice, however." Spite said. "I am willing to extinguish the fire."

The smell of burning flesh made Spite pause as he glanced at the exposed flesh of the man's leg, cooking slowly with the uncontrolled flame.

"Extinguish it. Please." The man begged.

Spite nodded as he reached close to the man, willing the magic to bow to his will.

The man gasped in reply as the fire spluttered and died, the fading flames revealing blackened, bleeding flesh.

"For your sake, I hope an animal comes for you before you die of thirst." Spite offered as he turned away from the man with a cruel sneer on his face. "For that fire was the most merciful and quickest death I could promise."

"Please don't leave me here." The man begged. "Please. I can still be of use to you."

Spite frowned. "Oh. That's right. I forgot about that. Thank you for reminding me."

And then Spite plunged his hand into the man's chest, a grin spreading across his face as his hand grasped his prize.

* * *

Mortis sighed as Yurius finished loading up their trunk in the carriage.

"Are we content with our position on the convoy?" Lorenz asked as he hurried over to the group.

"We are." Yurius said quickly, shooting a warning glance at Mortis in the process.

"It will be good to have some fresh air." Mortis replied.

Lorenz nodded. "I would like to apologize for Leonie. She's very sensitive about captain Jeralt's death."

Mortis nodded quietly in response. "So I've been told."

Lorenz frowned. "If we move quickly, we should reach Myrddin before nightfall. There we can see to repaying you for the debt."

Mortis nodded in turn. "That would be appreciated."

"If we had more horses, I would have a rearguard as well." Lorenz said seriously. "But with the recent bandit attacks, the village can't afford to send out anyone to get us back to the Great Bridge of Myrddin."

Mortis nodded in reply as she waved off Yurius.

"Leonie has a much wilder horee than I do." Lorenz said quickly. "Would you prefer my horse?"

Mortis glanced at the two armoured mounts being led out of the stables and nodded. "I trust the white one is yours?"

Lorenz nodded in reply. "Leonie has the grey stallion, but only for a short while. Her previous mount fell at Fodlan's Throat."

Mortis frowned. "What were you doing up there?"

"An invasion force from Almyra had attacked while the lord guarding the fort was unwell." Lorenz replied. "That and we had erm, some personal business with him."

"I see." Mortis replied. "Seems like it was a busy trip."

"Not particularly. Only Hubert saw Lord Goneril, and he was severely ill at the time."

Mortis raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"He mentioned to us later that Lord Goneril had eaten some bad mushrooms."

"Badly cooked or poisonous?" Mortis asked. "Badly cooked mushrooms can be unpleasant. Poisonous mushrooms and be deadly."

"We didn't pry at the time. Lord Goneril was considered mentally unstable at the time."

"Understandable. Poison is not exactly an enhancement for one's mind."

Lorenz nodded as the horses were saddled. "We should get going. The road ahead isn't particularly dangerous, nor does it have major winding paths."

"So long as I follow the main road, there's no risk of getting lost then." Mortis concluded.

"That's correct." Lorenz replied. "Let's be quick. We've wasted enough time."

Mortis nodded in reply before she followed Lorenz to the horses. "Let's hope we can make it before nightfall."

* * *

Byleth waited quietly as the cart moved away from the well paved streets of Enbarr to the not particularly well paved roads of the empire's rural regions.

"It's rather rough out here isn't it?" Edelgard asked as their carriage bounced yet again along the road.

"It is." Byleth replied. "It wasn't this bad the last time I came to Enbarr."

Edelgard nodded in reply. "Indeed. Many work crews were conscripted into the imperial legions over the course of the war, so I'm afraid that we've not been able to keep up public works in recent years."

Byleth nodded. "Would you like to ride outside tomorrow?"

Edelgard shook her head even as she gazed longingly at the sky outside their carriage. "No. It would be faster via carriage. We can't afford to waste time."

Byleth nodded as he shuffled awkwardly around the carriage, squeezing next to Edelgard as she inched away to provide him space.

"Maybe when this is all over, we can travel Fodlan on our own terms." Byleth said as he pulled Edelgard into his lap, his arms wrapped around her midsection as they both gazed off at the beautiful blue sky.

* * *

The arrow pointed at Sylvain's face was certainly not friendly.

Sylvain blinked awkwardly as he tried to remember why there was an angry archer in his sight.

"What the hell was that?" A voice called over somewhere in the distance.

"Intruder!" The man pointing the arrow at his head shouted back.

Somewhere from far away, footsteps came closer to Sylvain as he tried to wave the arrow in his face away.

"General Gautier?" The second voice asked with surprise in his voice.

"Who?" The first voice, the archer barked.

"That's General Gautier." The second voice informed the first.

"Oh." The archer replied. "Are you serious?"

"Please don't shoot him." The second voice said. "And yes, that's General Gautier."

The arrow retreated from his face and Sylvain let go of the breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Why are you here?" The first archer asked.

"I'm here to find Ashe." Sylvain replied weakly to the dark blob that stood over him.

"He means General Ubert." The second voice translated.

"I knew that." The formerly threatening archer said with a scoff.

Sylvain blinked as the second archer pulled him to his feet, his headache becoming ever worse with being exposed to light.

"What knocked me over?" Sylvain asked.

"We set up a trap." The second archer said cheerfully when the first stepped away. "You fell right into it."

"Trap?" Sylvain asked.

The archer pointed to a point in the grass.

"My head hurts. Tell me what it is." Sylvain snapped.

"We set up a tripwire." The archer replied. "Your horse ran into it, threw you off, and continued forward. Almost trampled me in the process."

Sylvain winced as the man tore something from the ground.

"See? A stake to hold the wire down."

Sylvain sighed as he waved the man off. "Alright then. That explains why I'm sore. Could I see Ashe now?"

"General Ubert is asleep at the moment." The soldier replied. "I'll take you to the camp, but you'll have to wait until he wakes up."

Sylvain frowned as the soldier left him for a moment, pausing until the man returned.

"Did you hit your head in the fall?" The man asked.

Sylvain winced in turn.

The man shook his head and sighed. "Looks like you might have a concussion. Wonderful."

"Have you found Ingrid yet?" Sylvain asked as the question slowly came to mind.

"General Galatea? No."

Sylvain glanced around and let out a hiss of pain, his hands grasping for something to hold on to.

"Take my hood." The man muttered as strong arms steadied Sylvain. "The light will be bad for you until we can get you a healer."

Sylvain nodded weakly as he felt a dark hood block out the sun.

"I'll walk you to camp." The archer said as he grasped Sylvain's forearm.

"The Lance of Ruin." Sylvain protested.

The archer sighed as he turned about, his hands gingerly sliding the weapon into Sylvain's hands a moment later.

"Never liked those things." The archer muttered. "Creepy."

Sylvain laughed weakly. "I suppose not."

The man nudged him forward in response. "Not long now. We'll see what we can help with once we reach camp."

"Ashe isn't a mage. And Linhardt, Marianne, and Mercedes are all back in Garreg Mach."

"We know. We carried a few cure waters and vulenaries with us." The archer replied.

"Were they meant for Ingrid?" Sylvain asked. "If that's the case, save them for her."

The archer let out a low, annoyed hiss. "No. You are injured. Ashe himself would demand that you got the help that you need."

Sylvain laughed bitterly. "That's Ashe."

"We-oh." The archer said quietly.

Sylvain winced as he looked up, a vague and blurry face visible against the green foliage.

"Sylvain." Ashe asked quietly. "What the hell are you doing here?"

* * *

"I have questions." Maya said excitedly when Yurius met her eye midway through the trip.

Leonie gave a faint groan in response as Ignatz rubbed his head and moaned.

Yurius hastily shielded his eyes away from the girl, his vision filling up with the drunken form of Leonie sprawled on the bench next to him.

He spun around hastily, disgust rising in his throat over the undignified form of the woman next to him.

"Yurius." Maya snapped.

Yurius glanced at Ignatz, who, despite being less unappealing to look at, was still slumped over, his face hidden by his hair and the angle of his head.

"Yurius! Hey! I'm talking to you!"

Yurius met the gaze of Maya desperately, but the other girl had seen the move in advance and refused to meet his gaze.

"Stop ignoring me like a child!" Maya whined.

"What do you want Maya?" Yurius asked, feeling the trunk containing their radio pressing against his ankles.

"Does Mortis have any clothes she doesn't want?" Maya asked. "She has such good taste."

Leonie made a low moan at the name of her newfound nemesis, but otherwise failed to reply.

Yurius shook his head. "No. I haven't seen her for some time."

"Oh right. You and her haven't seen each other for a while now." Maya said. "What about the chest you have there? How much gold do you have?"

Yurius felt his mouth go dry. "I- uhh. I'm not sure."

"There are so many clothes I want to buy once I see my brother. So many sweets I want to eat!" Maya exclaimed. "Could you buy them for me?"

Yurius shuffled awkwardly against the chest, now shaking his head aggressively.

"Fine then. I'll talk to Mortis. She's nice."

Yurius glanced at the frozen form of Evi, now suddenly quiet.

"I don't think you know her well enough to do that." Yurius muttered as he leaned back into his seat.

"She bought me cake this morning. She paid for Leonie's bar bill. Of course she has money."

Yurius shook his head nervously. "I'm not in control of our finances. Mortis was always better with money."

Leonie made a noise of protest at the other woman's name and Yurius slightly inched away from her, backing into Ignatz in the process.

"How much do you have in there anyways?" Maya asked.

Yurius suddenly wished he wasn't in the carriage.

"Erm, Evi. How did you find shopping yesterday?" Yurius said quickly, desperately trying to change the topic.

"Expensive." Maya snarled. "Do you have any idea how poor this girl is? I had to buy her new shoes, new underwear, new clothes."

"I'm fine. Truly!" Evi protested weakly, flushing a deep crimson.

"That's not the truth and you know it!" Maya snapped. "And that's before I noticed your gloves have blood on them!"

Yurius and Evi exchanged a nervous glance.

"She's so poor she has to use her gloves for her time of the month!" Maya shouted. "I'm not going to let my friend sudder that!"

Leonie groaned feverishly at the shouting, her slurred words failing to make sense as Evi glanced nervously at the mercenary.

Yurius shook his head. "Let's not get into that."

Maya snarled in reply. "Evi is poor to the point where she has to use her gloves to stem the bleeding. And you can't even spare a few coins?"

Yurius shook his head. "Look, I'm not going to dig through her trunk. She has things in there that are very important to her."

"I don't care. You need to take better care of poor Evi. Why don't I take a look around, see if there's anything inside that we can use?"

Yurius shook his head again. "Mortis would be furious if she found out."

"But Evi is your friend isn't she?" Maya pushed.

Yurius pursed his lips as he glanced at Evi. "She is, but Mortis really doesn't like me going through her stuff."

"That just makes her sound mysterious." Maya continued. "Aren't you interested in what's in the trunk?"

Yurius thought of the pile of coins that Spite had tossed into the trunk.

"I am in fact."

Yurius thought of the Athame that Spite had gifted Mortis and glanced at the sleeping Leonie.

"Actually, no. I'm not interested in looking." Yurius said quickly.

Yurius then thought of the radio machine he saw Mortis fiddling with.

"No. I'm not interested at all." Yurius finished as the carriage descended into silence, now guarding the chest even more tightly than before.

* * *

"Boss. What is that?" The lead archer asked as Spite caught up with the group at a small clearing.

"Dark magic ingredient." Spite replied.

"Is that- his heart?" The only female archer asked in horror, inching away from her overlord.

"It is. He's not going to need it." Spite offered with a mild shrug as he finished toying with the dark stone, slipping it into a side pocket.

"What are you going to do with it?" One of the other archers asked.

"It's good to have a spare heart on hand." Spite replied. "There's a great deal of magic we can use against our enemies using the hearts of our dead."

The archers shifted nervously in reply.

Spite sighed slowly as he sat down. "Fine. I suppose that description scares you more than it helps."

The assembled archers flinched as their overlord spoke.

"There are three particular uses for a Agarthan heart in dark magic." Spite said as he looked at the terrified faces around him. "Are any of you familiar with them?"

"Bringing someone back to life?" The lead archer asked when his compatriots were silent.

"Yes and no." Spite replied. "There are three things that make a living being. A heart is only one of them."

"A mind." One of the other archers said quickly.

"Correct, Herald Three." Spite replied with a nod. "The third aspect that is required is blood."

The other members of the team nodded as Spite gestured for them to come closer.

"It is said that those of our people who die with regrets are sent to the dark dimension of Zahras until their own guilt and regret drives them insane." Spite said quietly as the warband huddled closer.

"Isn't that the cursed throne?" The female archer asked.

"No. That's Zanado you are thinking of." Spite replied with a small scoff. "In the event that one is able to locate a mind, has a heart on hand, and enough blood and raw magic on hand to build a body for the deceased mind, then yes, one can bring a dead soldier back to life."

"Is there- well, anyone you want to bring back?" The leader of the archers asked.

"All of us know the answer to that question." Spite replied calmly, though his body tensed at the question. "But if the report on her death was true, her mind is already at peace. To run the gauntlet of Zahras on a fool's errand would be to betray my duty as your overlord."

The other men and women nodded their heads grimly as Spite let out a long, slow breath.

"We should get going." Spite said after a minute of silence. "The sooner we can recapture these maggots the sooner we can return to Shambhala."

* * *

Edelgard sighed as she leaned back into Byleth, her eyes wandering from the endless fields of green corn to the brilliant blue sky that stood over them.

"Do you like what you see?" Byleth asked, breaking the silence.

Edelgard almost scrambled out of his lap in a panic, landing heavily on the floor of the carriage, a hand over her heart.

Byleth stifled a laugh as Edgard pouted.

"I thought you were asleep!" Edelgard protested as she dusted herself off of the floor, her cheeks flushed.

"I woke up a while ago." Byleth replied casually. "I wasn't sure if you were still asleep."

Edelgard sighed as she slipped back into the bench, smiling as Byleth put an arm over her shoulders.

"The sky is beautiful." Edelgard said after a long moment.

Byleth nodded as he glanced at the sun halfway below the horizon outside their carriage.

"It is."

"We should reach a tavern soon." Edelgard said after another moment of silence.

"Is it a place where we can watch the sunset together?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard paused for a long moment as she placed her head on Byleth's lap.

"Yes. There is."

Byleth didn't say anything to that.

"The village had a meadow." Edelgard said as she gazed out to the sky again. "It's the first place where I saw my mother after the coup."

"When we get there, let's see it for ourselves."

Edelgard nodded weakly as she closed her eyes again. "I like the sound of that."

* * *

"I remembered something." Monica said quietly as Dorothea woke from her nap.

Dorothea turned her eyes to her red haired companion. "Really?"

"Do you remember Yurius?" Monica asked.

"The Shambhalan soldier who guarded you?" Dorothea asked.

"Before he burned down the tavern we were in, he mentioned Adrasteia."

"Wait. To whom?"

"Hawthorne."

"What did he say?" Dorothea asked, suddenly alert.

"He said something amongst the lines of Spite will provide for your losses."

"Spite?"

"When Hawthorne asked him on who Spite was, he said that Hawthorne knew him by another name."

"And he didn't mention anything about it to us." Dorothea muttered. "What happened?"

"I don't know. There's a lot I've been kept in the dark about."

"Did Yurius seem to know Hubert?"

"I don't know." Monica replied. "Hubert and Mortis didn't come up all that much."

"What did you talk with him about?" Dorothea asked.

Monica looked away in response.

"Oh." Dorothea said quietly. "Let's not go there then."

"I- we bonded over how we were never told the truth about anything." Monica blurted out.

"What happened on his end?" Dorothea asked.

Monica sighed. "He would go weeks on end with no orders from his superiors or any other operatives they might have had."

"What kind of orders?" Dorothea asked.

Monica grimaced and looked about the carriage before she leaned back into her seat, a slow sigh escaping her.

"Remember how Hawthorne and Hubert said that they were to kill me?"

Dorothea nodded.

"Yurius received a single order over all the months we were together. To kill me."

"And Yurius refused." Dorothea concluded.

"He did. That's why I'm still here today."

Dorothea frowned. "Was this after Roderigo Midas was disposed of?"

Monica nodded quietly and sighed. "It wasn't until much later that I learned that the murder of my kidnappers had allowed them to move forward on their plot."

"Hubie does like to plot." Dorothea replied.

"From the sounds of it, he would have fit right in with Shambhala." Monica scoffed.

Dorothea frowned at the dismissal of her colleague, but conceded the point quietly nonetheless.

"I suppose I should be thankful that Hubert and Mortis were busy elsewhere." Monica said as she slowly turned her gaze to the fading sun.

"I suppose I understand why you don't have a wish to be wanted." Dorothea said in turn as she too joined Monica in looking at the bright sun.

* * *

"He didn't do anything strange to you did he?" One of the archers asked when Ashe stepped out of the small tent where Sylvain lay.

"He hit his head. I doubt he could tell me from his mother." The female archer replied with a scoff.

"Please don't hurt him further." Ashe said quietly.

Both archers spun around at the words of their commander.

"I won't." The male archer laughed. "Totally nothing happened."

Ashe gave the man a dirty look.

"I hate to say it boss, but that look just looks like you are squinting." The female archer said with a barely concealed smile.

Ashe sighed quietly. "Please don't maim Sylvain."

"Sure." The female archer said. "We are on the same side after all."

Ashe turned his gaze on the other archer, innocently whistling away.

"Oh fine." The man growled. "I won't hurt him. Knight's honour."

"How badly do you think he was hit?" The female archer asked.

"Badly enough." Ashe replied. "He's not going to be any help in combat until we can get him to a healer."

"Do we need to watch him?" The male archer asked.

"Him and his lance. I don't want anyone letting either out of their sight." Ashe ordered.

"Are the rumours true?" The female archer asked. "About the lance turning people into monsters?"

"I've been told so by the other members of the Black Eagle Strike Force." Ashe said. "I'm told the lance's last victim was Sylvain's older brother."

"It's true." Another archer offered as he came up to the group, the man shooting the lance a murderous glare as he arrived.

"Hold on. I know you said you fought for a bandit before, but that bandit was General Gautier's brother?"

The bandit turned marksman turned and glared murderously at the man who had spoken.

The man wisely turned and took a step back.

"Miklan was a good boss. The best until I joined the Imperial Army."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Ashe said grimly.

"He didn't deserve to die the way he did." The archer said as he glared at the lance.

"Then you understand the importance of keeping it out of the wrong hands." Ashe concluded.

"Naturally." The archer said grimly.

"I'll keep an eye on him if you intend to move out soon." The female archer said.

"I'm not leaving you alone with that lech." The other archer snapped. "If you stay behind, I'm also staying behind."

Ashe rubbed his temples and sighed. "Sylvain isn't going anywhere for the meanwhile. I'll need you to stay behind and watch him."

"If he's good to ride again, should we try to follow you?" The female archer asked.

"No. If we need your bows, I'll send a rider back to fetch you. If not, return to Fhirdiad. See to it that he gets the medical treatment he needs."

The three archers nodded.

"We won't let you down." The bandit turned archer saluted.

Ashe nodded as he turned to gather the rest of the warband.

* * *

Ingrid blinked as her captor stood over her, a cruel looking blade in hand.

When the ropes binding her wrists were cut, Ingrid lacked even the strength to lift her arms, simply letting them fall to the dirt.

Her captor sighed as she slid down in the shade next to her.

"Water?" The woman asked.

With weak, trembling shoulders, Ingrid tried to move her arms, but found herself lacking the strength to do so.

The woman scoffed as she opened a dull, earth coloured canteen, spilling precious water over Ingrid's lips as they both sat in the heat.

With her throat no longer parched, Ingrid found her voice again.

"Why are you helping me?"

"I don't know." The woman replied. "I suppose I'm just lonely. Enough to talk with you animals."

Ingrid paused at the insult, the hot summer making further conversation difficult.

"Could I see that knife?" Ingrid asked finally, breaking the silence.

"It's nothing special. A cheap knockoff." Her captor scoffed as she waved the blade about.

"What kind of knife is it?"

"It's a knockoff of the original Athame." The woman said boredly. "Not an original."

"Athame." Ingrid whispered. "I know the name."

"Kronya?" The woman asked.

The thought of the maniacal assassin flashed into Ingrid's mind as she sucked in a sudden breath.

"Bingo." The other woman laughed bitterly. "When news hit Shambhala about what she did, everyone and their grandmother was looking to make their own version. Don't think Spite was all too pleased with the craze."

"You knew Kronya?" Ingrid asked.

"I know the entire family." The woman snickered. "Bloody mess that debacle is."

"Family?"

"Of course. Kronya and her big brother and sister."

Ingrid frowned. "I didn't know that."

"Of course you didn't. We don't tell this to anybody. Especially not to savages like you."

"Are they like her?"

Her captor scoffed at the question. "If you look closely enough, then yes."

Ingrid shivered at the thought of two more laughing assassins stalking the shadows of Fodlan.

* * *

"You shouldn't be up." Mercedes said in her motherly voice as she rose from her seat.

"Ack." The other woman laughed weakly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I know you are feeling cooped up, but there's no point in watching you hurt yourself."

The other woman laughed weakly as she took a step back.

"Would you like to stay for tea?" Mercedes asked.

"Are there any letters from my brother?"

"Not that I'm aware of." Mercedes replied.

"I- I'm worried about him."

"We took good care of him." Mercedes assured the other woman. "There's nothing to worry about."

"I'll decline for the tea."

Mercedes nodded. "If you aren't hungry, we understand."

The woman nodded weakly as she turned back to the stairs. "I'll head back to my room then."

Mercedes finished her cup of tea and waited for the woman's steps to fade.

"Annie." Mercedes said softly. "If you want to talk, I'm here."

"You heard me then." Annette said quietly as she slipped through a side door.

"We're best friends." Mercedes said gently. "I know that there's something on your mind."

"I'm sorry." Annette said. "I shouldn't have tried to hide it."

"Tell me what's wrong then." Mercedes said as she gestured to the spot next to her on the bench.

"I saw father in Fhirdiad." Annette replied.

Mercedes didn't say anything, but her arms wrapped around Annette.

Annette took a choking gasp as she returned the hug. "I just want to see him again. Just one more time. For mother."

Mercedes didn't say anything.

"Merci." Annette whispered. "Thank you."

"Have you spoken with your uncle?" Mercedes asked.

Annette shook her head. "No."

"Then perhaps we should change that some day." Mercedes replied gently.

Annette nodded at the suggestion. "I want to know how mother is doing."

* * *

"Garreg Mach." Seteth said softly as their carriage slowed before the walls of the monastery.

Flayn opened her eyes slowly and watched the carriage lurch forward to the central keep.

"We're home." Seteth said softly.

Flayn nodded. "Home."

"We shouldn't be here long. Two days at the most."

Flayn nodded. "Can we visit the Officer's Academy?"

Seteth paused, his lips set in a thin line as he shook his head. "Too dangerous. We can't risk exposure."

Flayn glanced longingly at the towers but nodded as they passed, Seteth gently pushing their horse forward.

"There should be a tavern nearby we can eat at." Seteth said quickly.

"Do they have fish?" Flayn asked.

Seteth smiled weakly in return. "I'm sure they do."

A look of joy on Flayn's face made Seteth smile.

"Then it's settled." Seteth said as he eased his horse into a nearby stable. "Fish it is."

"Do you have perch?" Flayn asked a footman excitedly.

The man blinked. "Garreg Mach hasn't had fish since last summer. All the fish was used to feed the imperial army stationed here."

Flayn staggered back as if she had been physically attacked.

The man grimaced as he looked at the travelling couple. "Not much room here either. I'm afraid you might need to sleep in your carriage."

Seteth frowned. "Why is that? We can pay."

The man blinked. "Are you traders?"

Seteth paused for a moment before he nodded. "In a sense. We are here to get supplies to make a long trip."

The man shook his head. "It'll be hard to do that. The army distributes much of the food we have on hand. The meat is mostly poached at this point."

Seteth and Flayn shared a grim look.

"There are still traders around the Officer's Academy. The military's presence here has been lowered since the end of the war."

"War?" Seteth asked.

"We had a large surge of passerby after Fhirdiad fell." The man explained. "Mostly soldiers moving to new army posts or militiamen disbanding."

"Fhirdiad fell?" Flayn asked.

"It's been a while now." The man replied. "The entire kingdom is in ruins now."

Seteth swallowed hard as Flayn took a step back.

"We were on a supply trip to an isolated farmstead." Seteth said hastily. "We aren't really sure what has happened over the last while."

"Well, you missed a lot then." The man replied. "Arianrhod was destroyed by some kind of large scale spell. The Tailtean Plains have been reduced to a refugee camp."

"The Tailtean Plains are the breadbasket of the kingdom. And why would refugees not seek shelter in Fhirdiad?"

The man looked at Seteth strangely.

"When the Imperial Army came to besiege Fhirdiad, the archbishop ordered the city to be burned to the ground."

Seteth froze as the words rang in his head.

"Rhea." Seteth whispered slowly as he staggered back.

The man nodded. "I can't imagine how terrible life must be for those trapped inside the city."

Seteth nodded. "How is the city?"

"Inhabitable." The man replied. "It'll get worse by the time winter hits."

Seteth nodded grimly, thinking of the many harsh winters he had spent along the Rhodos Coast.

"Stable man!" A familiar voice called, and Seteth froze in place.

"It is good to see you again." The other man called to the street. "The mare you had us see if well."

"That's good to hear." The man said joyfully. "Who are-"

Seteth turned to face the man grimly, suddenly wishing he had his spear.

"Hello Seteth." The man said quietly.

* * *

**AN:** This week, my papers are finally finished (huurah).

Over the next few weeks, I'll be doing a minor rewrite of the first arc.

Topics that need fixing:

Lore. (The Enbarr Church Rebellion was canonically in 1065, not 1165).

In universe contradictions.

Names. I butchered Linhardt's name over the first few chapters and I've had like four different spellings of "Adrasteia".

That being said, with school out until the new year, expect chapters coming out at a faster pace than the usual 1 chapter per week format I've been running since the start of the story.

As always, Read. Review, Follow, etc.

Now looking for a potential beta reader.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: The Tower

* * *

"How long before our scouts return?" Ashe asked one of his archers as he glanced back at the form of Sylvain sleeping in a tent.

"They should be back soon." The archer replied. "I suspect they are following the horse tracks we identified earlier.

"Very good." Ashe said.

"Are we looking at a night ride again?"

"Most likely." Ashe replied. "We are fortunate they don't know we are chasing them."

"Where do you think they'll be going?"

"There's very little territory they can run to." Ashe replied. "Isolated hamlets will not have the supplies to carry them forward, and defensive positions are few and far between."

"So what do our battle plans look like if we find them?"

"Sylvain has made it difficult for us to mount an effective attack." Ashe replied. "We will more likely have to resort to an ambush to gain an upper hand."

"If we spot general Galatea-"

"I'll make that choice when we get there. We see Ingrid, I'll lead a diversion. Instigate enough of a ruckus to allow for her to be extracted safely."

The man nodded as two soldiers came running back, their faces flushed.

"We found her."

* * *

"Hello there Seteth." Alois said as he entered the stable, his face expressionless as he nodded in greeting to the stable manager.

"Alois."

"You know him?" The stable manager asked.

"Former erm, a coworker of mine." Alois offered quickly. "It is good to see you again."

Seteth nodded. "Likewise."

"So much to catch up on." Alois said to the stable manager. "Pardon us if we need to head back to the monastery."

"Whatever the case, the horse is in good condition. Marianne came by earlier to see him."

Alois nodded. "We should receive some grain from Brigid in the coming days. Be on the lookout for that."

Seteth shifted uncomfortably before Alois finished his conversation with a smile.

"It's good to see you too Flayn." Alois said with a smile. "Please, return to the officer's academy with us."

Seteth made eye contact with Flayn as well.

"Mercedes has baked a cake. If we come back soon enough, there might still be some left."

Flayn swallowed hard before she nodded.

"Come. Join us for dinner." Alois said as he gestured the way for Seteth.

Seteth glanced at the stable master and opened his mouth to protest.

"Oh, of course. Please ensure his horse is well fed." Alois said quickly.

The stable master nodded in approval.

"Well then. Shall we be off?"

Seteth nodded his approval nervously, walking slowly as he followed Alois.

"Have you heard of what happened to Fhirdiad?" Alois asked.

"I was told that Rhea had set the city ablaze." Seteth replied grimly.

Alois nodded. "And what do you have to say about that?"

Seteth didn't reply, his face set in a tight line.

"Did you know?" Alois asked.

"No. I did not." Seteth replied finally. "I'm disgusted with what she did."

Alois nodded grimly in reply. "That sounds like you."

"The kingdom kept us safe for years on end, supported us in battle, nourished our soldiers. And Rhea thanks them by burning their capital to the ground?" Seteth asked quietly. "Yes, I'm disgusted."

"Is Arianrhod alright?" Flayn asked.

Alois turned to Flayn and watched her for a moment.

"No. Something happened to Arianrhod."

Seteth turned his head to Alois and frowned. "What happened?"

"We took Arianrhod first." Alois replied. "I was told after the battle that something had destroyed the city."

Seteth frowned. "It doesn't sound like Cornelia to destroy a city."

"We killed Cornelia in battle." Alois corrected quickly. "Yet something happened after the fighting was over."

Seteth frowned. "That was uncalled for. Cornelia was a holy woman who cared only for the well being of the people."

Alois gave Seteth a long look. "During the battle, Cornelia turned her Titanus golems against kingdom forces. The first victim was Rodrigue Fraldarius himself."

Seteth flinched. "Titanus golems?"

Alois frowned as he held the door open to the central hall of the Officer's Academy. "I was told after the battle that the golems we defeated were known as Titanus golems. Is there something wrong?"

Seteth exchanged a glance with Flayn. "Why would Cornelia have access to Titanus golems?"

Flayn shivered. "Could she be- Agartha?"

Seteth grimaced. "Alois, I must know more."

Alois shook his head in reply. "I can't tell you more because I don't know more. Everything I learned came from Byleth or someone else telling me."

Seteth turned his head in confusion.

"My daughter became ill in the weeks before the battle. Byleth and Edelgard urged me to visit her."

"Is she alright now?"

"She recovered quickly, but I still missed the entire battle." Alois replied. "By the time I returned to service, the city was taken."

Seteth looked at Flayn again as Alois ducked into a side room.

"Well Flayn, you are in luck. There's still cake here." Alois called.

Flayn swallowed hard. "Agartha."

Seteth glanced at the open entrance to the courtyard and street even further beyond.

"Ahh. Here we are." Alois said quickly, a plate with a slice of cake in his hands.

Flayn jumped at the man's words, her hands seeking those of Seteth as her breathing was reduced to panicked gasps.

Seteth replied by holding Flayn close, his eyes focused on the distant sky.

* * *

"Uneventful ride?" Yurius asked Mortis as she dismounted from her horse, the woman wincing as she tested her legs.

"Indeed. How was yours?"

"Maya wants to spend more money."

Mortis scoffed in turn. "Are you serious?"

Yurius nodded grimly.

"The answer is no." Mortis replied. "We don't even have that much to begin with."

"She kept promising that her brother would pay us back."

"Who is this brother?"

"Some guy named Raphael."

"Denied."

"I'm worried she might try to break into the trunk."

Mortis swore. "Define worried."

"She keeps looking at it. She knows there's money and lots of it."

Mortis frowned as she glanced around the deserted village. "Fine then. I have an idea."

"I'm listening."

"We take out anything that can link us to Shambhala and make a big show of emptying the chest."

"I don't get it."

"What I meant is that we first take out anything that links us to Shambhala. My athame, the radio machine, the bits and pieces that can be traced to House Ordelia."

Yurius nodded. "And we hide it somewhere out of sight."

"That's right. Then we go into the tavern and empty the chest before their eyes."

A flash of light reflected in the eyes of Yurius. "I get it."

"Give the money over to someone sane like Ignatz or Lorenz."

"And have Maya pest them for funds." Yurius said with a grin.

Mortis nodded. "I'll try to slip out overnight to get a message to Spite."

"You think he's worried about us?"

Mortis grimaced. "He's been in the field long enough to know that some detours may occur."

"His field operations are even common knowledge now." Yurius said with a shrug. "If nothing else, he's scary good at his job. He's got a way of running circles around his enemies."

"Which operation was your favourite?" Mortis asked.

"The most famous one was Operation Noose." Yurius replied.

"Operation Noose wasn't a masterclass." Mortis scoffed. "Spite was furious with how it ended."

"Why was he unhappy?" Yurius asked. "Everyone with served with him saw it as a textbook case of how to conduct war."

"Thales intervened in the plan at the last moment. Said something about a counterbalance."

"How did you know that? Were you involved with the operation?"

"Yes and no." Mortis replied.

"What does that mean?" Yurius asked.

"Spite let me in on some important details on the operation, but by his standards, it was a failure."

"Why was it a failure?" Yurius asked. "We finished the entire attack with all objectives successfully completed."

"Spite hates loose ends." Mortis replied. "He wanted someone in particular to be killed."

"Thales said no?" Yurius asked.

"Indeed." Spite had planned an assassination on the target, but Thales ordered him to stand down."

"Why would Thales do that?"

"I have no idea." Mortis replied. "Spite wasn't the kind of person to get me involved in his personal affairs."

"Kronya?" Yurius asked.

"By personal, I mean Spite didn't want to drag me into anything involving him alone."

"Why was that?"

"He had his enemies." Mortis replied with a shrug. "He didn't want me to get involved with them."

"Last I remember, he dispatched William within two minutes." Yurius offered.

"Well, William had fallen down a flight of stairs first." Mortis said with a shrug.

"Why is it that you seem to be involved with everything?" Yurius asked. "Kronya, William's accident, Operation Noose, you've done it all."

Mortis shrugged. "I suppose it's just a question of good luck then."

"Do you think it's a question of good luck?" Yurius asked.

"I'm not sure what you mean by that."

Yurius grimaced as he took a step back to look at the deserted village around them. "There were always rumours about you."

Mortis raised an eyebrow at that. "Is that so?"

"The fact that you got all the exciting jobs for seemingly nothing at all." Yurius stammered.

"The rest of Shambhala thinks I slept with Spite then." Mortis finished with a trace of amusement in her voice.

Yurius opened his mouth to deny the accusation, but finally nodded. "Yeah. A lot of people think that was the case."

Mortis sighed as she stepped back, her exhale slow and steady as she looked up at the night sky. "Spite is asexual."

Yurius paused. "I didn't know that."

"It's a long story of why and how I got involved with him." Mortis said finally. "None of it involves sleeping with him."

Yurius nodded before he paused. "How do you know he's asexual?"

Mortis sighed as she looked around, as if toying with the question of what to say.

"What do you remember the years before the war?" Mortis asked.

"The year with Kronya?"

Mortis shook her head. "Much before that. When we first came to Shambhala."

"I was a grunt, you were a petty mage, there's not that much that I remember."

"And what do you remember of the politics of the era?" Mortis asked, now leaned against the carriage, watching Yurius carefully.

"I remember that Solon didn't like Spite." Yurius said.

"Did you like him?" Mortis asked.

"I thought of him as creepy." Yurius said. "He just seemed to see right through me in a lot of aspects. Even now, he still does that."

"As a mage, I thought he was a hack job." Mortis said finally. "I just saw him as this big contrast to Aranea."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Aranea was my role model for a long time. She was powerful,untouchable, answered to nobody." Mortis replied. "Spite was just this ghost that happened to stand close to her."

"You wanted to be like her." Yurius concluded.

"I did. Almost got me killed."

"That's not something I expect you to say." Yurius offered.

"And yet it's the truth. She offered me and some of the other mages a job at one point."

"A job? Aranea?" Yurius asked, his tone speaking openly of his disbelief.

"Someone had pissed her off. She wanted him dead."

Yurius blinked. "Wait. Other mages?"

"I was the only mage from Shangri-la. The others were all raised and born in Shambhala."

"Hold on. Who was this guy who pissed off Aranea?" Yurius asked as he looked his partner in the eye.

For the first time, Yurius saw Mortis nervous, with something he had never seen reflected in her eyes.

"Mori Mori, come on, tell me." Yurius urged.

The use of the embarrassing nickname saw a spark of anger in her eyes before Mortis recovered, though she shied away from meeting his gaze.

"What do you remember about the Janus conspiracy?" Mortis asked finally, her eyes finally meeting his midway.

"What the hell does the Janus conspiracy have to do with anything? Besides, you watched Spite personally dispatch every last one of them."

Mortis sighed as she slowly sank into a crouch, her hands sinking into her cheeks as her gaze fell onto the dirt road.

"Because Aranea ordered the assassination." Mortis finished.

"Why would she order the death of her own brother?" Yurius asked in disbelief.

* * *

"We are here." Hubert said with a wince as he dismounted his horse, his face a mask of great pain as he stretched his legs.

Shamir and Bernadetta also climbed down their mounts, both of them very much aware of the pain that came with long rides and thus better prepared.

Dorothea stretched her arms long and slow before she looked around the convoy.

"Alright then. Room for the professor and Edie, room for Hubie and Bernie-"

"I beg your pardon?" Hubert asked.

"A room for you and Bernie?" Dorothea asked.

"No. Before that."

"A room for the professor and Edie."

Hubert sighed. "She is the emperor. How many times have I told you to not refer to her as _Edie_?"

Dorothea rolled her eyes. "Shamir, do you mind sharing a room with me and Monica?"

"Alright." Shamir replied.

"Jeritza and Hanneman." Dorothea said, nodding to the pale armoured knight.

"And what about me?" Manuela asked.

"I'll share a room with her. If nothing else to ensure it's not a war zone by daybreak." Hannemann said quickly, glaring at Manuela with his arms crossed.

"Very funny." Manuela snarled. "I'll try to laugh next time."

"Erm. Has anyone seen the professor?" Bernadetta asked.

"He's right there." Hubert scoffed, pointing next to the royal carriage.

"Erm, professor?" Bernadetta called as she nervously approached the carriage.

Hubert sighed as he stormed over to the carriage, single handedly tearing the door open.

Edelgard lay curled on the well cushioned seats, her face serene as she lay peacefully on top of Byleth, her right arm curled against her chest, her left hand held firm by Byleth.

Hubert turned up and found the murderous face of Byleth staring back at him, and wisely took a few hasty steps back.

"What's wrong?" Dorothea asked as she glanced around the frame of the frozen Hubert.

Byleth glared at her too, and Dorothea spun around, her face flushed a deep crimson as Hubert quickly and quietly shut the door to the carriage.

* * *

Edelgard moaned weakly as her eyes opened, her lips turning into a weak smile as she looked up at Byleth.

"We've arrived." Byleth said softly.

Edelgard took a glance around the carriage before she looked out the window and closed her eyes again.

Byleth gently brushed a strand of hair away from Edelgard, his eyes focused on her sleeping face.

A slight growl filled the space as Byleth observed Edelgard flush a slight pink.

"Are you hungry?" Byleth asked.

Though Edelgard was faking her sleep, her entire body flinched at the surprise question, and Byleth noted that she had flushed an even deeper red.

"I suppose if you want to keep sleeping, I'll have to tuck you into bed then."

Edelgard's eyes flashed open.

"Just hold on a second!" She protested.

"Alright." Byleth replied warmly.

Edelgard winced as she turned awkwardly against the cramped insides of the carriage.

"Professor?" Edelgard asked weakly.

"Yes?" Byleth asked. "Shall we join the others?"

Edelgard had flushed to an immensely deep red, her eyes unwilling to meet those of Byleth.

"Is something wrong?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard tried to look at the sky outside the carriage, an awkward low whistle escaping her lips.

Byleth paused for a moment before he leaned down, his teeth nibbling at Edelgard's earlobe.

The surprise gambit worked wonders as Edelgard shot up in surprise, a yelp escaping her lips as she spun around, her arms wrapped around Byleth's shoulders.

"Shall we get going?" Byleth whispered into Edelgard's ear.

A whimper of protest escaped Edelgard.

"Is that a no?" Byleth asked, a false disappointment in his voice.

"My legs are asleep." Edelgard admitted awkwardly.

"That's fine." Byleth replied. "I'll just carry you then."

"Please don't let them see me." Edelgard blubbered hastily. "I can't let them see me like this."

"Alright then. I'll see what I can do." Byleth said gently as he brought his arm under Edelgard's thighs.

* * *

"I'm hungry." Dorothea said as she exchanged a glance with Monica.

Monica raised an eyebrow. "Alright then."

"You two go ahead." Shamir said with a shrug from her position at the small table by the window. "I'm fine."

"Shall we?" Dorothea asked.

Monica nodded as she rose from her bed. "Shamir, would you like for us to bring something back?"

"No." Shamir replied.

"Alright then." Dorothea said cheerfully as she opened the door of their room. "Let's head down Monica."

"I'll catch up." Monica said as she fumbled with her boots. "There's something wrong with my laces."

"Alright then." Dorothea said in parting before she shut the door behind her.

"Dorothea?" Bernadetta asked.

Dorothea turned around and found the purple haired girl standing behind her.

"Hi Bernie. Is Hubie coming too?"

"He's changing into something for dinner."

The door behind Bernadetta opened and Hubert von Vestra stepped out.

"Lady Dorothea." Hubert greeted calmly.

"I like your flower." Dorothea said with a smile.

"I made it!" Bernadetta said proudly.

Hubert nodded. "It's very well done."

"That's rare praise from you, Hubie." Dorothea said. "Still, it looks lovely on you. It would match nicely with your skirt."

Hubert clenched his teeth in response, a flash of anger in his visible eye.

"Now then. Shall we head out?" Dorothea asked.

Hubert and Bernadetta failed to respond, their faces frozen as they nervously bowed.

Dorothea frowned as she turned around.

Byleth stared back at her.

Dorothea looked down and found Edelgard in Byleth's arms, desperately trying to pretend to be asleep.

"Ah." Dorothea said quickly.

"Good evening." Byleth said quickly. "Is there a room for the two of us?"

"Down the hall." Dorothea said quickly as she inched away from Byleth and Edelgard.

"I'm done!" Monica said cheerfully as she opened the door behind Dorothea. "I-ah."

Hubert spun around and slipped back into his room, his spare arm dragging the stunned Bernadetta behind him.

Dorothea hurriedly pushed her way back into her room, shoving back Monica in the process.

"What's wrong?" Shamir asked.

"The professor is carrying Edie up the stairs!" Dorothea whispered excitedly.

"Your point being?" Shamir asked.

"It's touching!" Dorothea snapped, glancing nervously back at the door. "The two of them are just so lovey dovey!"

Monica flushed deeply. "Was she asleep?"

"Of course not. She was trying to fake it, but I saw right through her."

Monica glanced at the door again. "Do you think they'll have gotten to their room yet?"

"Does it matter?" Dorothea asked. "What if Yurius carried you like that?"

Monica flushed bright crimson in a shade that was even redder than her hair. "Shush!"

"Yurius, the Shambhalan?" Shamir asked. "What does he have to do with anything?"

Monica replied by flinging the door open, fleeing into the hallway.

Shamir frowned as she got to her feet. "Why did she mention that Shambhalan?"

Dorothea glanced out the hallway before she turned to Shamir, whispering softly in her ear.

"Oh." Shamir said simply. "Alright then."

Dorothea glanced at the open door. "I'll try to calm her down. Don't tell anyone though."

""Whatever." Shamir said. "It doesn't matter to me."

Dorothea replied by scrambling away from the imperial spymaster, pausing only to shut the door before she chased the fleeing form of Monica von Ochs.

* * *

"Boss." The only female archer said as Spite turned away from the dangerous path he had been observing.

"From your tone, I presume you have good news?" Spite asked as he turned toward the woman.

"Correct. We found the remnants of a campfire."

Spite nodded. "That's odd. There are few trees in this mountain. It will be difficult to maintain a fire in this region."

"Do you believe it might be them?"

"Show me the way. I will be the judge of that."

"Of course." The archer said quickly, gesturing up a nearby hill.

"How did you find the fire site?" Spite asked.

"One of our men came across it."

"That's a case of good fortune then." Spite replied as he nodded in the direction of two more archers.

"I'm glad you came so quickly." The lead archer said quickly. "We might have found a lead."

"I've been told as much." Spite replied. "Regardless, lead the way."

"We are close." The other archer said.

"What did you find anyhow? It's not like this mountain of ours has many trees. It'll be hard to find tinder to burn."

The three archers froze at that.

"We found a few burnt sticks." One of the archers said as he looked to his friends for support.

"Clearly there's someone on the mountain." The female archer protested weakly.

Spite nodded quietly. "Very well then. Let us hope we have not wasted our time on a false alarm."

A shout over a nearby hill caught the attention of Spite before any of the others could plead their case.

"Is that where the fire is?" Spite asked.

The lead archer frowned and shook his head.

Spite frowned. "Then we investigate. The fire can wait."

The three archers nodded grimly.

"On my command." Spite said as he pressed himself against the steep mountain path, his head leaning over the ridge.

"What do you see?" The female archer asked, her bow taut as she crouched down close to the others.

"Poachers." Spite snarled. "I recognize them too."

"Where?" One of the men asked.

"Village in Goneril territory. Last time I was down there, she asked me to join on a hunting expedition. They think that we are a border patrol force."

"Really?" The female archer asked.

"The last two decades have not been kind to this region." Spite explained with a shrug. "It's not implausible to assume that the empire has units stationed in the mountains to deter raids and smugglers."

"What do we do then?" The second male archer asked.

"I'll intervene. There's no need to shed blood until we can confirm their intentions."

"How do you intend to do- bah!"

"Careful I don't burn you." Spite muttered as he forced the orb of fire up, the tongues of fire licking at the air even as they faded, cut off from the magic of their progenitor.

Already there was a reaction from the poachers.

"Seems like they know we are here." One of the men laughed weakly as he picked himself off of the ground.

"That was scary though." The other men laughed as he dusted his comrade off.

"It was not my intention to frighten you." Spite said calmly as he lit another orb of fire in his hand, calmly stepping over the ridge that hid the poachers from sight.

* * *

Dinner was a slow, awkward affair as Edelgard and Byleth finally made their appearance, the emperor awkwardly hiding behind her consort as she made her way to the table. Hanneman and Manuela glancing at the couple in a confused manner.

"Are we missing something?" Manuela whispered to Dorothea.

Dorothea sat up rigid in her seat, shifting uncomfortably as she tried to make eye contact with anyone that wasn't Manuela, Edelgard, or Byleth.

Hubert met her eyes, smiled, and then turned to ask Bernadetta about her flowers.

Monica met her eyes weakly, but didn't say a word.

"Did we miss something?" Manuela asked again.

"Shush, Manuela." Hanneman said quickly. "Dinner is about to be served."

"Sorry for being late." Byleth said quickly. "I hope everyone here has been settled."

Hanneman nodded. "I hope your journey went well."

Byleth nodded. "What was on the menu, if I may ask?"

"Roast duck and mashed potatoes." Dorothea said quickly.

"Only the best for the emperor." A gravelly voice offered as the door to the kitchens opened.

Edelgard blushed deeply. "Think of me as just any other traveller."

"Edie, we all know that's not true and you know it!" Dorothea said as she gestured for the cook to come forward. "Come, let's all eat together."

"Oh. I forgot. There's still a stew being made in the back." The cook said quickly.

"Bring it forward." Dorothea said quickly. "We have a lot of people to feed."

The man nodded. "But of course. Just letting you know."

"Much appreciated." Byleth replied as he gestured for the man to come forward.

"Yes sir?" The cook asked.

"Get us something to drink."

The cook grinned. "We might have some vodka in the cellar."

Byleth blinked for a second as Dorothea jumped to his aid. "We are on the move, so something that doesn't have a hangover attached please."

The man nodded as he turned away from the table. "Oh course. I have just the prefect idea."

"What is it that you think he's going to get us?" Monica asked as she glanced at the steaming duck before her eyes.

"The mashed potatoes first, most likely." Hanneman replied. "After that, I'm not so sure."

Jeritza frowned. "Do they have cake?"

"I'll ask when he returns." Byleth replied. "It's certainly possible."

"Thank you." Jeritza said.

"Edie, why don't you cut into the duck?" Dorothea asked.

Hubert sighed. "I will cut the duck for her highness Edelgard."

Byleth and Edelgard exchanged an amused glance before Byleth struck, his movement far faster than anything Hubert could manage.

"A wing for you." Byleth said with a smile.

Hubert shook his head as he backed down, a small smirk on his face as the cook returned.

"Mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce." The man announced over the din of the laughing diners.

"Do you happen to have cake?" Byleth asked as the man turned away.

"We have a lot of fruitcakes available." The man replied. "Is that an option you are happy with?"

"Emile?" Byleth asked.

Jeritza nodded in response. "Of course."

"One large slice coming up then." The man said as he slipped away.

"I wonder if they have any more duck." Hanneman said as Byleth generously cut away portions of the duck, handing each to a hungry diner.

"Let's try to make do with the potatoes." Dorothea said as she dropped a large spoonful onto her plate.

"Surely they have some form of bread left?" Hanneman asked Dorothea as the cook returned.

"Ah. Here you go sir. Fruitcake."

Jeritza inspected the loaf carefully. "Thank you."

The man nodded as he turned away, off to let the party enjoy their meal.

"Do you have any bread left?" Hanneman asked.

The man frowned as he turned back toward Hanneman. "We do, but it's gone stale."

"Bah." Hanneman scoffed. "You have enough food to let bread go stale? When was it baked?"

"Two days ago." The unfortunate cook offered weakly.

Hanneman snorted. "It'll be fine then."

The cook swallowed before he stepped away from Hanneman. "Are you certain?"

Hanneman sighed and looked at the man with a face that spoke of his annoyance.

The cook sighed as he turned away.

Hanneman sat back down and accepted the bowl of mashed potatoes with a slight nod.

"They make good potatoes." Dorothea said cheerfully.

"They do." Hubert confirmed. "Excellent use of herbs and butter."

"The cake is somewhat strange." Jeritza said.

"How so?" Byleth asked.

Jeritza replied by slamming his fork through his cake.

"It's the death knight!" Manuela exclaimed.

Jeritza gave the woman a dirty look.

"No. The ratio of fruit to cake is very strange." Jeritza replied with annoyance in his voice.

Byleth glanced over at the cake. "Well, I suppose you are correct. There's much more fruit in the cake than what you would expect."

"There's hardly any flour." Hubert observed.

"Perhaps he used it all on the bread?" Monica asked weakly.

"Here we are." The cook said quickly as he reemerged from the kitchen, a large pitcher of tea in his hands.

"The bread?" Hanneman asked.

The cook laughed weakly. "Sorry. We must have eaten it earlier."

"What was the bread made of?" Byleth asked.

"Rye flour mainly. A little tree flour. It's alright."

Dorothea coughed weakly and Hubert froze mid bite.

The cook glanced at Dorothea and Hubert and took a slight step back. "Ah."

Hubert put his fork down. "Cancel the bread then."

"Why seems to be the problem?" Hanneman asked. "And what is this about tree flour?"

The cook took another step back and seemed to have a strong urge to flee.

Dorothea coughed weakly. "Tree flour is sawdust."

Hanneman swallowed and slowly sat down. "Ah."

"I assure you. The cake is all regular flour." The cook stammered quickly.

"Not much of it. There's a great deal of dried fruit within." Jeritza observed.

"We only had a limited shipment of flour." The man explained. "There are however, plenty of fruit trees in this region."

"Why is flour being limited?" Byleth asked.

"The war." Hubert answered. "Much of the grain that would have gone to the peasants in the empire are now going into former alliance and kingdom territory."

"Leaving you with scraps to feed yourself." Byleth finished, looking at the cook.

The man nodded. "There's going to be fresh bread when the next shipment of flour comes in, but until then, I'm forced to make do with what I have."

Hanneman sat down slowly as Byleth paused.

"There's a space in between Shamir and Manuela. Why not join us for dinner?"

The man flinched. "I couldn't possibly."

"No." Byleth replied, firmly this time. "It is not right that you will make do with sawdust when we are feasting."

The cook looked stunned as he took a staggered step back.

"Alright then, I suppose I'll pull up a chair then." The cook stammered as he turned to a nearby table, his face that of bewilderment as Jeritza spoke up.

"Good sir?"

The cook turned around. "Yes?"

"More cake would be appreciated."

The man nodded weakly as he slipped away. "Of course. More cake. All the cake."

* * *

Sylvain had a splitting headache when he finally woke up.

"Oh. He's up." A distant voice said with mild amusement.

Sylvain groaned and feebly clawed at the air around him.

"Get him water you stupid lout!" The voice snapped in anger.

Sylvain tried to protest and ask about Ashe and Ingrid, but only a choked gasp escaped him.

"Do you think we can catch up with the others?" Another voice, accompanied by the sound of sloshing water, asked.

"Of course not, you idiot." A cold, gruff voice snapped. "He's obviously not fit to ride. He'll only slow the others down.

"I can ride." Sylvain protested weakly.

"Are all men masochists?" The first voice asked with a dismissive tone.

"We have two special cases here." The gruff voice snickered. "Still, I expect our good general to be a bottom."

The first voice laughed at that. "I don't think he and his lady have even held hands yet."

"I agree. He's been rarely bold enough to even consider it."

Sylvain made a weary attempt to lift his head, but only managed to find two vague shadows in his vision.

"Ingrid?" Sylvain asked weakly.

"The warband moved out already." A third voice said. "They found her."

"Where?" Sylvain managed before he fell into a fit of coughing.

"Two guys found her somewhere. Ashe and the others bolted when they heard the news."

"Is she safe?" Sylvain asked as he felt a strong set of arms lean him upright.

"Easy there boss man." The gruff man said. "You aren't in good shape."

"Hold him still." An annoyed voice snapped. "Don't want him choking on the water we spent an hour prepping."

Sylvain grimaced as he felt something hard pressed against his lips.

He hissed as the hard edge against his lips refused to budge.

"Sheesh. It's just water. Calm yourself."

Sylvain paused for a moment before he slowly opened his lips.

Warm tea slipped through his lips as the canteen was pushed lightly into his mouth.

"That's enough." The gruff voice snapped. "Any more and he'll choke."

Mercifully, the canteen disappeared a moment later.

Sylvain let out a sigh of relief as he was laid back into the dark of the tent.

"Let him sleep then." The gruff voice said.

"My lance?" Sylvain asked.

"He wants his lance for some reason." One of the voices muttered.

"Weird thing to have as a safety blanket." Another voice scoffed.

"Oh fine." The gruff voice muttered as Sylvain heard the man stalk away.

"Wow. That's a damn nice lance." The second voice muttered as Sylvain began to fade away.

"It's called the Lance of Ruin for a reason. You haven't seen what it can do. Not like what I've seen." The gruff voice snapped.

"Alright man, whatever you say." The other voice laughed.

"Goodnight sweet prince." The gruff man sneered as Sylvain felt the ancestral lance land by his side.

* * *

"So why are you here?" Spite asked as he stormed toward the group of poachers.

The lead poacher raised his bow in response, but the others hastily pulled him down.

"It was you after all." The woman said.

"So it is." Spite replied. "Have you seen our friends? Two of them have gone missing."

"They didn't sound all that friendly when we met them." The woman said. "They said that you were out to kill them."

"Yes. They deserted our unit. There is only one punishment for that."

The girl blinked. "Well, they also said another member of their unit was still in the mountains."

"Already dealt with." Spite replied cheerfully, gesturing for the other group of archers to join him.

"Dealt with?" The woman asked.

"I confirmed his death personally." Spite replied. "He died after falling from a great height. Potentially died of dehydration."

The woman grimaced. "So the other two are deserters."

Spite nodded. "Correct. They were wanted on charges of gross negligence when they chose to flee our unit."

The woman nodded. "Is there no way to try them somewhere?"

Spite raised an eyebrow. "Our unit deals with such matters internally."

The woman nodded. "Are all imperial units like you?"

Spite shrugged. "It is very difficult being a border patrol unit."

The woman nodded. "Not exactly a glamorous posting is it?"

Spite laughed as he gestured his men forward. "It's a volatile region. House Ordelia and the rebellion, the poor management of Duke Aegir, the fact that it's a border region to begin with."

The woman shook her head. "Still, I'm glad that the war is over, though I'll probably miss you and your hunting skills when you get new orders."

"Perhaps we can trade for more meat in the near future." Spite offered. "We discovered recently that our supplies have largely gone dry as the war has heated up."

The woman nodded. "Let's head down to the village, perhaps we can help you there."

Spite nodded as he waved his men forward. "Alright then. You heard the lady."

* * *

"You've been polishing Crusher all day now." Madeline Dominic observed as her brother in law paused in his work.

Gregory Dominic paused before he set the rag down to the table. "I'm sorry. I was doing a lot of thinking today."

Madeline Dominic nodded. "Thomas told me."

Gregory nodded. "I see. I'm sorry for not telling you in person."

Madeline slowly choked back a breath. "Gregory, I want to go to Garreg Mach with you."

Gregory nodded. "I can't be sure if Annette will be there."

Madeline shook her head. "Even when that horrible kingdom man called her a traitor, you still supported her."

Gregory scoffed. "She is still my niece, no matter what emblem she chooses to wear."

"Do you think he'll ever forgive her?" Madeline asked her brother in law.

Gregory paused as he turned away from the weapon, his steps echoing against the cold stone of the armoury.

"I don't know." Gregory admitted at last. "Even over the war, I only saw glimpses of him."

"The war council in the capital?" Madeline asked.

"I saw Cornelia's representative there more than I saw him."

"The regent of Arianrhod?" Madeline asked.

"Correct." Gregory replied. "She fell with Arianrhod."

Madeline made a pained face. "Some days I count myself as fortunate, because I still have a daughter who can come home."

Gregory nodded. "If the goddess smiles upon us, perhaps we will see her soon."

Madeline nodded as she turned away from her stepbrother. "Thank you Gregory."

The baron Dominic closed his eyes for a moment before he spoke.

"Madeline?"

"Yes Gregory?"

"Be prepared to leave early tomorrow. With Arianrhod destroyed, we'll need to spend the next few days on the road to Garreg Mach."

"We are avoiding Arianrhod?" Madeline Dominic asked.

"The city has been destroyed. There's no place to rest or gather supplies there."

The other woman nodded weakly before she turned around. "Alright then. Goodnight Gregory."

"Goodnight Madeline." Gregory Dominic half whispered as his gaze drifted back to Crusher.

* * *

**AN:** The mini-rewrite is complete, as is the next chapter. (Hurrah!).

To those readers who have me followed/favourited. I'm really sorry about the giant flood of emails you might get.

As Always, Review, Follow, etc. Still looking for a beta.

**Preview for the next chapter:**

Byleth and Edelgard go to a field.

Mortis reveals her edgy phase.

Ashe has a less than climatic rescue of Ingrid.

Sylvain questions his sexuality.

Spite totally does not murder two people.

Felix scares children. Caspar hits children.

Catfight.

Flayn eats fish. Lysithea eats cake. Everybody else looks at Seteth funny.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Throneless King

* * *

"General?"

Caspar sighed as he sat up in his bed, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

"Yeah?" Caspar asked. "What's up?"

The man at the entrance of the tent grimaced. "Something bad is happening."

"What happened this time?" Caspar asked as he rose to his feet.

The guard grimaced. "There's a standoff. General Fraldarius has gotten into a fight."

Caspar sighed. "And you want me to diffuse it?"

The guard winced. "I'm sorry, but there's not exactly anyone else we can turn to."

Caspar wiped his face quickly before he stepped outside the tent. "Alright then, where is the problem?"

The soldier nervously pointed in the general direction of the main camp. "Just try to be careful, this is already starting to look like a mess."

* * *

Seteth glanced at the plate of food before him and glanced around the dining room.

"Not hungry Seteth?" Raphael asked in between bites of potato.

Across the table, Lysithea whispered something to Linhardt before taking his dessert.

"Flayn, please stop eating so much." Seteth chided as Flayn finished yet another piece of the fish.

"It's quite alright." Mercedes said with a smile. "If she's hungry, then we aren't going to stop her from satisfying her hunger."

"I thank you then." Seteth said, pausing as a plate of food slid before him.

"You must be hungry." Mercedes said gently.

Seteth shook his head. "I'm afraid that I don't have much of an appetite these days."

Alois grimaced. "Is it my fault?"

Seteth shook his head again. "It's just something I didn't think was possible."

"Seteth, is there something you want to get off your chest?" Linhardt asked finally.

Seteth paused before he glanced at Flayn. "Yes. There is."

The dining table fell silent.

Seteth sighed. "And yet I don't know where to begin."

"Can I ask you something?" Annette asked after a long pause.

Seteth nodded.

"Over the war, did you see…" Annette trailed off.

"Your father?"

Annette nodded.

"Yes. I saw him a great deal over the war."

Annette paused as she seemed to digest the information.

"Is there something else you wish to ask me?" Seteth asked.

"Eh?" Annette blurted out. "No, I'm fine, thanks."

Seteth made a mental note to talk to Annette in private as the conversation at the table died down again.

"I should have never mentioned Arianrhod." Alois said with a sigh.

Mercedes and Linhardt picked up on the comment almost immediately.

"Did you know Cornelia?" Mercedes asked gently.

Seteth grimaced at the question. "Yes. She was a kind, loving soul."

Mercedes sank back into her seat as looks were exchanged quietly.

"And yet she killed Roderigo in cold blood." Seteth whispered. "How could that be?"

The rest of the table said nothing, their eyes shifting as they tried to figure out what to say.

Seteth swallowed slowly as he rose from his seat. "I must reflect on this, pardon me."

Linhardt and Mercedes quietly shared a nod before the table quietly returned to their meal.

"I'm going to join my f-brother." Flayn said quickly. "Thank you for the meal."

When the door to the dining hall swung shut, Linhardt glanced at the plate of food and frowned. "Has anyone ever seen Flayn leave fish on the table?"

A chorus of nos and wary glances followed as Raphael moved to finish the platter of fish left behind.

* * *

"Are the two of you going to come in?" Ignatz called to the distant figures of Mortis and Yurius from the relative cool of the tavern.

Yurius turned first to look at him, followed by Mortis.

"We are going to order dinner without you if you don't come here soon!" Maya shouted. "And we'll give you the bill if you don't order with us!"

"Maya, please don't threaten to spend even more of their money." Ignatz winced. "I'm already having nightmares about how to pay them back what you already owe."

Maya puffed out her chest angrily as she stomped back into the tavern.

"Sorry." Yurius said quickly. "We were talking about the past."

Ignatz nodded. "What were you talking about?"

"Our old boss." Mortis replied. "Guy named Spite."

"Someone named their kid Spite?" Maya asked, her voice barely hiding her amusement.

"Spite was a nickname that he got over time." Mortis explained. "His real name was something else entirely."

"Which was?" Maya asked.

"We never asked. He said it was long and hard to pronounce."

"What does the tavern have to offer?" Yurius asked.

"A great deal actually." Ignatz offered.

"Ignatz?" Mortis asked.

"Yes?" Ignatz stammered, surprised at being put on the spot.

"Just where exactly is Lorenz?"

"Hiding under his bed." Evi piped up.

"Ignatz?" Yurius asked.

"Yes?" Ignatz asked, taking a step as if to flee.

"How much has Leonie drunk?"

"She's been drinking ever since we got here." Evi informed the horrified Yurius.

"She started off with just a pint, but she's drinking the entire bar dry now." Maya added.

"Following in her mentor's footsteps isn't she?" Yurius asked.

Even Ignatz laughed at Leonie's expense, though he faked a weak fit of coughing as a result.

"Do you think they'll cut her off anytime soon?" Maya asked as she glanced at Leonie again, having emptied yet another pitcher of ale.

As if on cue, the bartender took the pitcher and slid it under the bar, slapping away Leonie's drunken attempts at getting the pitcher back.

"Well, that answers that question." Yurius chuckled as Leonie drunkenly began to shout at the bartender, the man narrowly dodging a drunken punch as Leonie fell out of her chair.

"Should we intervene?" Mortis asked.

"It's best to not get between Leonie and alcohol." Ignatz said hurriedly.

* * *

"Felix, what's going on?" Caspar asked as he passed through a small cordon of guards, nodding at the tired sentries.

"These brats over here tried to steal a loaf of bread." Felix replied, gesturing with his sword to a scowling set of boys sitting nearby.

Caspar frowned. "Stealing food at a time like this."

"My boys did nothing wrong!" A voice shouted.

Caspar looked at the woman who had spoken, having been marched forward in between two spearmen.

"Had your boys not torn the bread from the arms of another woman, I might have believed that." Felix snarled back, his sword pointed at a woman behind another guard, her arms clinging to a loaf of bread.

The woman seemed stunned as she turned her gaze on the woman. "It's a filthy Duscar! You'll believe her word over mine?"

"I believe my eyes over your word." Felix shot back, gingerly testing his blade.

The woman seemed to pause for a moment before she changed her tone slightly. "I have children to feed, perhaps you could just let it go this once and let me have the bread?"

"No." Felix said. "There's a line for bread. Join it and wait your turn."

The woman seemed to seethe in anger at the words. "Fine! Come, I'll take the bread myself!"

At his mother's words, the two boys leapt up, their eyes making a beeline for the crying woman behind Felix.

And then the first boy promptly fell onto his face.

"He should have been looking." Caspar said with a shrug, innocently shaking off dust from his boot.

The second boy swung a lopsided punch at Caspar, who calmly stepped back, taking care to not step on the boy behind him.

Felix sighed as he grabbed the boy by the collar, his face becoming increasingly murderous as he glared down the boy.

"You." Felix snarled at the woman.

Both guards behind the woman snapped to attention.

"Take these two brats and get out of my sight." Felix hissed. "Pray to whoever you believe in that we never meet again."

The woman seemed to seethe in rage for a long, slow moment as the two boys scrambled to their feet.

Then the second boy swung a fist into Caspar.

Caspar blinked as the boy winced, clutching his hand as he ran back to his mother.

"Erm, are you alright?" One of the guards asked Caspar as the woman and two children disappeared.

"I'm cool." Caspar replied as he gestured to the woman behind him. "Make sure she gets back to her family safely."

The guards glanced at the woman clinging to the loaf of bread.

"Of course." The guard said quickly.

"Wonder when the others are going to get back." Caspar said grimly as he stood alone with Felix.

* * *

Ashe breathed in slowly as he watched the hastily deserted camp that stood in the desolate clearing before him.

He weakened the tight string of his bow before he gestured for his left flank to move forward, their position relatively defensible with no shortage of trees and shrubs.

To his right, two more of his warband steadied themselves against an ancient oak, their arrowtips gleaming against the moonlight.

Ashe himself steadied his sights upon the lone enemy soldier in the camp, slumped against a tree in deep sleep.

He watched the enemy let out a slow breath, the chest of the crumpled figure slowly pushing out before retracting back.

From the corner of his eye, he watched another soldier inch forward, now clearly illuminated by the distant moon.

Ashe glared at the man as he turned his gaze, with the archer seeming to realize that his leader was not pleased by the change in plan.

A single low whistle to his left indicated the impossible, and Ashe turned his head to the man who had uttered it, their eyes meeting in the darkness.

A second whistle from his right told him the same, that, as far as their scouts were concerned, Ingrid had been left behind with only a single guard.

Ashe paused for a moment before he raised his arm, slowly dragging his hand in the air before his throat.

As a single unit, the archers broke cover, a third of them taking positions along the clearing, ever wary of an ambush.

The rest of the archers hurried forward, their arrows pointed at the lone masked guard still left behind.

Ashe turned his back on the rest of his warband, his eyes looking at the crumpled form of Ingrid, her head slumped and her hair a muddy curtain over her features.

"Ingrid?" Ashe whispered quietly, sinking to his knees before her.

He heard a yelp from behind him, pausing briefly to look at the stunned form of the guard, having shrunk into a defensive ball.

"Boss, she's awake." One of the archers aiming at the unfortunate guard offered.

Ashe glanced around again, and to his disappointment, Ingrid was still limp against the ground.

"Ingrid?" Ashe asked again, his fingers gentle as he pressed them against her exposed skin.

"Boss, orders?" Another archer asked. "Do we can this bastard or do we leave them alone with Victor for a few hours?"

Ashe didn't reply, though he brought his fingers lower, his heart pounding as he sought out Ingrid's pulse, his fingers slipping lower.

Then he felt her pulse, strong against his fingers.

Then he felt her arms, strong against his shoulders.

"Ingrid?" Ashe whispered. "Are you awake?"

"Ashe?" Ingrid whispered weakly.

"Are you hurt?" Ashe asked as he inched closer to Ingrid.

"I- I'm fine." Ingrid protested weakly, her face flushed.

"Prepare to move out!" Ashe shouted to his warband.

"What do we do with our prisoner?" One of the soldiers called.

"Knock him out." Ashe barked. "We need to know what's going on."

"Understood." One of his men called back, a heavy thud following a moment later.

"Can you walk?" Ashe asked gently.

Ingrid winced as she tried to stretch her legs.

"Nevermind then." Ashe whispered a moment later, having noticed Ingrid's bare feet.

Ingrid blinked. "Pardon?"

"You're barefoot. You might hurt yourself." Ashe explained as he pulled back, his bow neatly added to his back.

Ingrid shifted awkwardly as Ashe leaned back down again, an arm holding Ingrid's back and a second under her knees.

"We'll stay behind." One of the outlying archers said quickly. "There might be something we can find in the camp."

Ash grimaced. "How many of you?"

"You'll need at least one horse spare, so I'll stay behind." The archer offered.

"No." Ashe replied. "Keep a squad at least."

"You need us to watch the site?" One of the other men asked.

"It would do us good if we could figure out where the enemy is headed. Still, if you encounter them, send a rider back to us. I want to see this threat put down."

"Got it boss." The archer said as he waved his squad over. "We'll see what we can find."

Ashe nodded as he helped Ingrid onto his mount, sliding in quickly behind her.

"Stay safe." Ashe called in the direction of his subordinates before he turned on his horse, hurriedly leaving the ruined camp behind.

* * *

Edelgard sat back quietly into her chair as she let out a slow, content exhale.

"I trust you enjoyed yourself?" Byleth whispered into her ear.

Edelgard giggled as she rolled her head to Byleth, their gazes meeting slowly.

"Would you like to walk with me?" Byleth asked as he patted her belly.

Edelgard rolled her eyes but felt a thin smile spread across her face. "That tickles."

"Good." Byleth replied.

Edelgard scoffed before she finally stood up, stretching her legs in the process.

"Are we headed to the field?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard flinched at the question. "I almost forgot about that."

Byleth smiled as he stood up. "Well, I'm glad that I didn't then."

Edelgard punched him lightly on the shoulder as a response. "In the future, I'd appreciate it if you didn't keep stuffing my plate with mashed potatoes."

Byleth frowned. "Were they not good?"

Edelgard grimaced. "They were delicious. That being said, I'd rather not become Ingrid in front of everyone."

Byleth chuckled at that as he patted Edelgard's stomach. "But I'm here to make you happy, and if you being happy is playing Ingrid, then who am I to judge?"

Edelgard flushed deeply as she hastily turned away, her steps hasty as she made her way out of the tavern, Byleth following close behind.

* * *

"No Hubert." Dorothea said as she stood at the end of the hallway, arms firmly crossed against her chest.

"I will not ask again." Hubert said, towering over the much shorter Dorothea. "I must know that Lady Edelgard is safe."

"She's with the professor." Dorothea scoffed. "I do believe you trust him?"

"It could get cold." Hubert protested.

"Who was it that chased a servant girl undressed in the palace less than a week ago?"

Hubert snarled. "You will not bring that topic up."

"It was rather brazen of you." Dorothea said.

"What was?" Bernadetta asked from behind Hubert.

Hubert spun around. "Bernadetta!"

"Eh?" Bernadetta asked suddenly. "Did I do something?"

Dorothea grinned. "Why don't I tell you about the Brazen Beast of Enbarr?"

Bernadetta looked horrified. "A beast?"

"Enough!" Hubert snapped, his voice revealing an uncharacteristic crack. "I will not intervene!"

Dorothea smiled. "I believe in action."

Hubert gritted his teeth before he turned around, gently pushing Bernadetta back into their shared room, the door slamming behind him.

"There we go." Dorothea said with a grin, watching the closed tavern door with a small grin. "Have fun Edie."

* * *

Edelgard sneezed suddenly as her legs finally gave out.

Just as her knees failed, she felt the warm arms of Byleth around her waist.

"We should have finished shopping in Enbarr," Byleth whispered as he let go.

"These things are murder." Edelgard muttered, kicking the dirt beneath her boots.

"Did you bring anything else?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard shook her head. "With Hubert forcing me to read a mountain of reports every day, small things like this tend to get forgotten."

"Then perhaps I can help with that?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard chuckled bitterly and shook her head. "Hubert wouldn't have that. But perhaps you can help with the personal letters that Hubert insists on me never reading."

"Personal letters?" Byleth asked, his tone neutral but guarded.

"Hubert mentioned it to me once that there's a great deal of letters addressed to me, but I've only seen a few."

"And how was that like?" Byleth asked as he watched Edelgard shift uncomfortably on the spot.

"Sweet but ineligible. They were mostly letters from children."

Byleth nodded before he glanced around the town. "Are your ankles alright?"

Edelgard let out a slow growl. "Why I ever let Hubert convince me to wear high heeled boots is beyond me. Walking in these contraptions is unbearable."

"Is that a no on your ankles then?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard hissed slowly. "Don't make me say it."

"What do you mean?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard glared at him, her face flushed with either anger or embarrassment.

"Please carry me." Edelgard said quietly.

Byleth smiled. "I didn't hear that. Could you repeat yourself?"

Edelgard growled. "You learned Hubert's smile."

Byleth blinked. "Really?"

Edelgard slowly exhaled. "Please carry me. I really don't want to have to walk in these death traps anymore."

Byleth replied with a small grin, sliding to one knee as Edelgard shuffled awkwardly into his arms.

"Which way now?" Byleth asked when he rose back up again.

"Keep going forward." Edelgard replied, inching even closer into Byleth.

"Alright then." Byleth replied as Edelgard closed her eyes, the two of them alone in the warm night.

"It's a little cooler here than Enbarr isn't it?" Byleth asked after a long minute.

Edelgard nodded weakly as she took a deep breath.

Byleth frowned as he reached the edge of the town, his eyes looking upon the distant fields and homesteads that dotted the landscape.

"Where was the field you mentioned again?" Byleth asked as he glanced around the dark.

Edelgard sighed as she shifted her body, and Byleth replied by lowering her to the ground.

"It's… gone." Edelgard whispered as she took a long look around the distant fields. "The field is gone."

"Can I help you?" A woman's voice called out.

Edelgard and Byleth turned suddenly at the source of the voice.

"Oh. Visitors, welcome to our village." The town guard who had spoken added quickly.

Edelgard laughed weakly. "Thank you, I- well, we are looking for something."

"Alright." The guard replied. "What is it that you are looking for? The tavern is the other way."

Edelgard shook her head. "We are staying there, but there's a place I want to go to."

"Where?" The guard asked. "And what kind of place?"

"There's a field with flowers nearby right?" Edelgard asked.

The guard blinked before she turned and scanned the fields beyond. "This village hasn't grown flowers since the Insurrection of the Seven."

Edelgard blinked. "Ah."

"Whatever the case, the field is the one around the white house over there." The guard explained, pointing to a distant farmhouse. "Still, the place has been abandoned for some time."

"Why is that?" Byleth asked.

"The old couple there died in their sleep over the course of the war, and their children were off fighting somewhere."

"Tragic." Edelgard said quietly.

"The field is still there, but whatever hands we have left are busy harvesting their own fields."

Edelgard nodded as she turned her gaze to the distant farmstead. "Let's go for a walk then."

The guard laughed weakly at that. "Whatever the case, I must return to my patrol."

"Thank you for your help then." Byleth said as he turned away from the woman.

"That was nice of her." Edelgard said as she followed down the path, her eyes focused on the distant house.

Byleth nodded. "Do you still want to go?"

Edelgard paused for a moment before she nodded. "Even if there's nothing left, I still need to be there."

Byleth nodded. "Alright then. Let's go."

* * *

"Back from your hunt so soon?" The lead guard at the small village asked.

"We ran into an old friend." The leader of the expedition said, nodding at Spite.

"Oh. It's good to see you again."

Spite nodded in response. "It's been too long indeed. I trust you have been well?"

"We have. The war is over at last, and we can't be happier."

Spite nodded. "Have there been any soldiers who returned from the front?"

The man nodded. "A few, but most of our forces have been sent to fortify Fodlan's Throat."

"I trust the Duke is in good health?" Spite asked.

The guard winced. "He suffered a case of severe food poisoning."

Spite raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

The guard nodded. "A soldier who was rotated out of the fortress said that he smelled awful."

Spite shook his head. "I suppose I didn't need to know that. Regardless, we would like to get down to business."

The poacher coughed lightly. "The two men who came here earlier were deserters from his regiment."

The guard nodded but glanced around a moment later. "Are you sure you couldn't just write them off as having disappeared? The war is over and everything. Besides, there's no border to guard anymore. The alliance is no more."

Spite shook his head. "We are expecting orders to move out any day now. To have discipline break in this crucial time would be disastrous."

"Move out where? The war is over." The poacher offered. "You guys are a border patrol regiment right?"

"Potentially finding another path to Almyra." Spite replied. "Make sure that the raiders don't find some way to break behind our front lines. Potentially chart a counterattack and end the threat once and for all."

"And these two deserters are important enough for you to make a trip personally?" The guard asked.

"Well, they started out as five. The other three have been dealt with." Spite offered. "To return with only three would make others question the leadership of their regiment. A nightmare for morale as well as discipline."

The town guard exchanged a glance with the poacher as he looked at the town again. "The two of them were given rooms in the town hall."

Spite nodded. "I'll be quick."

The guard shook his head. "Just be quiet. Things have been rocky with the empire over the last few months."

Spite nodded. "Duke Goneril and his sister?"

The guard nodded. "There are people unhappy that we are working with the empire, especially since, well, you know."

Spite nodded grimly. "I'll see when we move out what we can spare in terms of supplies. It should buy my successors some goodwill if nothing else."

The guard nodded as two more men jogged forward, exchanging glances with Spite.

"Just try to be quiet about it alright?" The man asked. "There's been enough bloodshed over the course of this war, and we don't need a riot."

Spite nodded as he waved his warband forward.

* * *

When he woke up, Sylvain found the inside of the tent dark and far too restrictive for his liking, though he could see glimpses of the moon through the threadbare cloth of the tent.

With the Lance of Ruin as a makeshift walking stick, Sylvain staggered to his knees, awkwardly crawling out into the warm summer night.

"He's up." A familiar yet female voice called from a short distance, causing Sylvain to look up.

"Wake up you idiot." A woman snapped at the sleeping form of a man, her boots urgently kicking the man in the side. "We were supposed to guard him!"

A feeling inside Sylvain flickered.

"One more minute, Nora." The man groaned.

"Celtus, I'll give you to the count of three before I maim you."

The feeling inside Sylvain died as he looked away in horror.

"Both of you, that's enough." A third, much deeper voice snapped. "Someone get him some water."

Sylvain opened his mouth to protest and insist that he was fine, but realized it was a futile effort.

"Oh fine." Nora snarled. "I'll get him some water. Do you think tea will be fine?"

"So long as it's not boiling hot, I don't think the sweet prince is going to mind."

"Douglas, just what the hell is it with you and calling him sweet prince?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to." Douglas shot back.

"Think he would like our special blend?" Nora asked with a small smirk in her eyes.

"Oi, don't give him my blend." The sleeping man protested, his eyes still closed.

"Your blend is just elderberry wine." Nora shot back. "And that's why nobody wants any."

"Good!" The man snapped back as the woman picked up a canteen.

"Douglas, you want to feed him or what?"

"He's been hit over the head, he's not going to try to bed you." Douglas scoffed.

The woman sighed. "If he says anything funny, can I kick him?"

"As much as it would amuse me, no." Douglas chuckled.

"Alright then sweet prince, drink up." Nora muttered as she walked to Sylvain, the canteen wide open for Sylvain to drink from.

The tea inside was close to tasteless, Sylvain noted, though it allowed for him to speak again.

"When is Ashe coming back here?" Sylvain asked.

"We don't know." Douglas said. "He rode off earlier with most of the warband."

"They found Ingrid?" Sylvain asked.

"They did." Douglas confirmed. "Well, one of our scouts said they did."

Sylvain grimaced as his stomach rumbled. "Do you happen to have any food?"

"I shot a bird earlier, but we haven't gotten around to plucking it." Douglas replied, his eyes hard as he walked toward Sylvain.

Sylvain nodded as he sat down at a nearby log. "Can I get another drink of that tea?"

"Suit yourself." Nora said. "It's not what you would usually drink, but it's better than nothing I suppose."

Sylvain placed the Lance of Ruin next to him, the spear propped up by the log.

As he finished the drink, the lance fell over, the butt of the weapon pointed awkwardly up as the tip sank into the ground.

"Let me get that." Nora said.

"No." Douglas said coldly as Nora stepped back, her eyes darting between the spear and the man who had spoken.

"Erm, is there something I'm missing?" Nora asked.

"You haven't seen what that cursed thing can do to people." Douglas replied. "It's called the Lance of Ruin for a reason."

Nora took a step back and shook her head. "Alright then, whatever you say."

"How did you know that?" Sylvain asked as he pulled the weapon back into a proper, upright state.

Douglas looked at him strangely, as if studying an interesting insect. "You don't recognize me then?"

Sylvain looked at the older archer and paused, his mind drifting to the thousands of soldiers he had met in the past.

"No. I can't say I have." Sylvain said finally.

Douglas let out a slow exhale as he turned away, walking away from the other two.

"Something wrong?" Nora asked.

"There are cavalry coming." Douglas replied.

Sylvain paused as he closed his eyes, and slowly the unmistakable sound of trotting horses filled the air.

"Ashe is back." Douglas called as he turned back to the other two.

"Is Ingrid with him?" Sylvain asked as he rose to his feet, wincing as a headache came back.

Sylvain glanced at the convoy as the first archers dismounted, exchanging nods with the two soldiers still awake.

"What the hell is Sylvain doing?" Ashe barked as he dismounted. "He shouldn't be out until a medic has seen him."

"He needed some water." Douglas explained as Ashe and another archer helped a pale figure dismount.

"Get him back into his tent." Ashe ordered. "There's much we need to discuss."

"What happened?" Nora asked.

"We took a prisoner." Ashe replied.

* * *

"What is your name?" Ashe asked the masked prisoner as he sat down on the log that represented the central point of their camp.

The prisoner replied by simply glaring at him.

"Filthy animal." The masked soldier hissed. "I give her water, I cut her loose, and as this is what I get for it?"

Ashe frowned as he glanced at the sleeping form of Ingrid, still barely visible in yet another tent a short distance away from the clearing.

"Would you like something to drink?" Ashe asked.

The prisoner fell silent, as if trying to think of a witty insult.

"Douglas, get our prisoner a drink." Ashe said to the former bandit.

Promptly, the archer removed a canteen from his side and moved to the bound prisoner.

"Her hands are tied, and I'm not going to risk having them untied." Ashe said.

Douglas promptly turned the canteen sideways, forcing the lukewarm tea into their prisoner.

A moment of force feeding later, the prisoner tore her head away from the canteen, coughing weakly.

"Where are your friends?" Ashe asked.

The prisoner paused for a moment before she glanced back in the distant direction of the second campsite.

"What do I get for helping you?" The woman asked.

Ashe paused as he pulled out a long dagger. "This is the dagger used to kill the Professor's father."

"It's a replica." The woman scoffed. "Spite and Mortis own the only originals remaining."

"Who is this Spite?" Ashe asked. "And who is Mortis?"

The woman paused again. "Clever of you." She said finally.

Ashe glanced at the sleeping form of Ingrid. "Why was Ingrid undressed?"

"We didn't want her running off when we weren't looking." The woman scoffed. "She wasn't going to get far without socks or boots."

Ashe nodded at the answer. "Why did your friends abandon you?"

The woman paused again before she sighed. "They're cowards. Running back to Bias."

"Where?" Ashe asked.

The woman sighed. "Conand Tower."

Ashe and Douglas both flinched at the name.

"How many of your friends are left?" Ashe asked.

"Not enough." The woman scoffed. "I suppose I should even be thankful they left me to die."

"Not enough for what?" Ashe asked.

"Not enough to take down that monster." The woman laughed bitterly.

"The beast in Fhirdiad." Ashe said grimly.

"We were sent to kill it, what a mess that was."

"What was the problem with your attempt?" Ashe asked.

"Damn thing had an army. We came to kill an overgrown bird, not a legion of the dead."

Ashe flinched at the mention of ghosts, but kept his face passive. "Alright then."

"What happens now?" Douglas asked.

"Cut her hands loose. Keep an eye on her." Ashe said. "We need to return to the main army. The Tower of Black Winds isn't a place to attack lightly."

The prisoner laughed weakly. "That abomination is hunting us. One way or another, you aren't going to have trouble yourselves with dealing with the cowards."

Ashe replied with a quick slash of the false Athame and the woman winced.

"You nicked my wrist." The woman said as she examined her hands, but otherwise remained neutral.

Ashe turned and slipped the dagger into the hands of Douglas.

"Headed to sleep?" The older man asked.

Ashe grimaced. "Doubt that I can. There's too much on my mind to rest."

Douglas nodded. "Do you want some of the wine Celtus brewed?"

Ashe shook his head. "Firstly, I don't drink, second, he shouldn't be carrying alcohol."

"Third, his wine tastes like piss." Douglas finished.

Ashe sighed. "You have a point there."

"Boss, the others are coming back." One of the sentries called.

"That was quick." Ashe muttered.

"I think they found something important then." Douglas offered.

Ashe nodded as he hurried over to the incoming riders. "I suppose so."

* * *

"So this is it then?" Byleth asked as he tested the beams of the fence, finding the wood weak and crumbling.

Edelgard closed her eyes as she leaned on the old posts.

"Be careful with that." Byleth warned. "The fence is badly maintained."

Edelgard opened her eyes again and quietly backed off, her eyes scanning the field. "Yes, this is the field from all those years ago."

"Fourteen years." Byleth said quietly.

"Fourteen years." Edelgard confirmed as she tested one of the rails of the fence.

"Is there a way to go around?" Byleth asked. "I'm not sure if the fence will hold up."

As if on cue, the rail under Edelgard's foot promptly collapsed, a yelp escaping her as she stumbled back.

"Are you hurt?" Byleth asked as he rushed over.

Edelgard shook her head as she placed a hand over her heart. "I'm fine, just surprised."

Byleth looked at the fence again and kicked a post.

The post didn't budge, and Byleth winced.

"Alright then." Edelgard giggled. "So much for that plan."

Byleth gave the post a dirty look before he turned to Edelgard. "Any other ideas?"

Edelgard eyed the fallen rail. "If we can get the other rails down, then I suppose we can make our way into the field."

Byleth nodded as he stepped forward, his strong arms pulling the other wooden rail away from the pole, the fence giving little in terms of resistance.

Edelgard glanced at the shattered splinters of wood on the rail she had broken, choosing instead to tear the longer half of the rail cleanly off from the poles that supported the fence, creating a long, open gap into the field beyond.

"Shall we?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard nodded as she stepped forward, their steps quiet against the hot, dusty earth.

"So this is it then." Edelgard said as her eyes watched the lifeless earth.

"Not what you remembered?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard pressed her lips together in response. "No, I suppose not."

Byleth nodded. "Do you remember the spot where you saw your mother again?"

Edelgard turned her gaze around the field, her steps slow and uncertain as she walked deeper into the field.

Byleth glanced back at the distant town before he followed Edelgard, confident that they were alone again.

"Wait." Edelgard said softly.

"You've found it?" Byleth asked.

"I might have." Edelgard replied, slowly turning back to face the distant village behind them.

Byleth felt something warm in his chest when Edelgard cracked a smile, a hint of a tear coming from her eye.

"You've found it?" Byleth asked as he turned to Edelgard, slowly taking in the sight of the small village.

"It was here that I first saw my mother back then." Edelgard whispered, barely audible as her voice failed her.

Byleth paused as they stood in silence for a long minute.

"Do you believe she's proud of you?" Byleth asked at long last.

Edelgard let out a slow breath as she closed her eyes. "I do, but she would have been sad."

"Dimitri?" Byleth asked after a long moment.

Edelgard nodded. "She would have watched the boy she loved as a son turn himself into the King of Delusion. She would have been heartbroken that we fought. That we had to kill one another."

"She would have seen every member of her family become a victim of Shambhala." Byleth commented quietly.

"She would have." Edelgard confirmed softly. "For him to wage war the way he did, for him to find joy in slaughter, I-"

"Then she would have been glad to see his madness ended." Byleth said firmly. "If she loved him, she would have known that it was an act of mercy, and the end of a tragedy."

Edelgard nodded as a single tear slipped down her face. "We should go back."

"Only when you are ready." Byleth said firmly in response.

Edelgard nodded as she closed her eyes, a warm gust of summer wind tossing her hair back as Byleth embraced her.

They stood there for some time.

* * *

"So what do you mean by quiet?" The lead archer asked as they stood before the lightless town hall.

"We grab the two animals and bring them back." Spite replied.

"Can't we kill them here?" The female archer asked excitedly.

"No. As much as it would save me a great deal of trouble of hauling them back up the mountain, I'm afraid we won't have the time."

"Why not?" The lead archer asked. "Just a quick slit of the throat, remove their hearts."

"We only have until the town wakes to act." Spite explained. "The locals here seem to support the deserters, and I don't wish to have to fight them on the way out."

"Why do they support the deserters?" The cook asked.

"Remember what the guard said." Spite said. "Relations between this town and the empire have been rocky."

"What does that have to do with us then?"

"Our cover story for almost the last two decades has been that we are an imperial border guards unit sent to make sure that the border regions are well protected." Spite explained. "With the defeat of their armies by our puppets, then all the sons and daughters they have lost over the war have been for nothing."

"And they are bitter at that." The female archer said.

"And we've marched right into the entire mess." Spite said. "Hence, we grab them before we explode this entire powder keg."

"What are you thinking of?" One of the archers asked. "That town hall is rather large."

"I'll go in alone. Search the building." Spite said. "I want you to set up ambush positions in the event they try to make a break for it."

"What should we look for? Doors? Windows?" The female archer asked, testing the strength of her bow.

"Are they good at climbing?" Spite asked the cook. "Do they lift heavy objects often?"

The woman shook her head. "They haven't done general labour in years."

"Good. Doors only then."

"How many doors are we looking at?" One of the other archers asked.

"Three." Spite replied. "But in reality two. The main doors will be my responsibility alone."

The warband nodded.

"Let's hope this is quick then." Spite said as he slid his athame out, toying with the blade as he made his way to the main doors of the town hall. "Three of you, on me. I'll show you where the backup door is."

"What about the rest of us?" One of the archers asked.

"Your leader knows where the back door is." Spite replied. "Get going. We've wasted enough time."

"You heard the man. Get going." The leader of the archer band barked as he hurried away from the retreating figure of their superior.

* * *

"You are troubled." Mercedes said softly as she approached the solitary figure of Seteth in the library.

Seteth turned to Mercedes before he paused. "Yes. There's much on my mind."

"Is there something you are willing to share with us?" Mercedes asked.

"What happened in Arianrhod?" Seteth asked after a long moment.

"I'm not sure what you mean by that." Mercedes said. "There was a great deal that happened in the city."

"Was, was Cornelia really using Titanus golems?" Seteth asked, his eyes meeting those of Mercedes.

Mercedes met his gaze as she spoke. "Yes, she did."

A slow breath escaped Seteth as he sank back into his chair. "To think that- Cornelia was one of them."

Mercedes paused. "One of whom?"

Seteth swallowed. "Was it true that she slew Rodrigue with one of the golems?"

Mercedes nodded. "He had just finished a skirmish with Felix when the golem opened fire."

"Did he suffer?" Seteth asked.

Mercedes shook her head. "I don't know. The battle was too frantic to pay attention to the fallen."

Seteth nodded, though his face was still a ghostly pale. "Cornelia did fall in the battle then?"

Mercedes nodded. "Byleth struck her down."

Seteth paused. "I met her once. Early in my service to the church."

"She was different then?" Mercedes asked.

Seteth nodded. "Even when I left, she had spent all her time around children."

Mercedes nodded. "When I was a little girl, the sisters in the church would praise her for her kindness."

Seteth nodded softly as he pulled a book from a nearby bookshelf. "What about the city being destroyed?"

Mercedes grimaced. "They say that there were beams of light that came from the heavens."

Seteth paused as he closed his eyes. "Beams of light?"

"Much of the city had been destroyed." Mercedes confirmed grimly.

"Were there craters?" Seteth asked.

"Craters?" Mercedes asked. "I don't know. Hubert was the one who reported it to us."

Seteth let out a slow breath as he closed his eyes. "I must think about this."

"Whatever might have happened in the past, we are here for you." Mercedes said as she rose from her seat.

"Thank you, Mercedes." Seteth whispered as the door to the library swung shut.

* * *

**AN:** Another chapter is done. Slightly longer than usual, but oh well.

Still looking for a beta. All my writing friends don't like Fire Emblem and all my friends who like Fire Emblem don't write.

**Next time on The Road Trip to Garreg Mach!**

A well planned abduction.

Traffic jam.

Shambhalans make excellent dragon kibble.

Gregory Dominic has a really, really awkward reunion.

An actual battle that is fair (on paper).

Thales.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Waning Moon.

* * *

"Do you mind if I lie down?" Edelgard whispered through Byleth's embrace.

Byleth nodded as he eased Edelgard down, both of them sitting on the warm earth before he fell back, his arms around her waist ensuring that Edelgard went down with him.

"The night sky is beautiful isn't it?" Byleth asked, his eyes following the lone cloud floating in the otherwise clear sky.

Edelgard murmured a weak response, but snuggled deeply into Byleth, who crossed his legs under him.

"Are my legs good pillows?" Byleth teased.

Edelgard murmured in confirmation.

"Are you sleepy?" Byleth asked.

"No." Edelgard said, her eyes meeting his, though he could hear the exhaustion in her voice.

"It's alright to tell me the truth." Byleth teased as he gently played with a strand of Edelgard's hair.

An annoyed noise escaped Edelgard, her lips making a halfhearted attempt to protest. "I'm telling the truth!"

"Is there anything I can do to make my legs more comfortable?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard flinched. "No! Your legs are fine."

Byleth chuckled at the sudden outburst. "I'm aware of that, my lovely little artist."

Edelgard's eyes flickered up at him. "You know don't you?"

"Do I look as good in paint as I do in life?"

Edelgard flushed deeply. "I-"

Byleth gently put a finger against the warmth of Edelgard's neck, feeling her agitated pulse against his finger.

"I-I'm going to sleep now!" Edelgard blurted out, obviously no longer asleep, practically running her head into Byleth's stomach in the process.

Byleth let out a slight grunt before he wrapped his arms around her waist in retaliation.

"El, should we get back?"

"Eh?" Edelgard asked.

"I'll carry you of course, make sure your poor ankles aren't in pain tomorrow."

"That-" Edelgard protested. "I should never have mentioned that."

Byleth chuckled as he brought his hand against the back of Edelgard's knees and lifted her from the ground.

Edelgard yelped. "Wait!"

Byleth stopped.

"Can I pretend to be asleep?" Edelgard asked weakly. "I don't want to be seen like this."

Byleth chuckled. "Alright then El. Whatever you want."

* * *

The doors to the town hall groaned as Spite stepped foot into the silent foyer, his eyes slowly finding his bearings as he stepped into the darkened hall.

He paused for a moment before he turned and shut the doors behind him.

Spite turned slowly before he summoned an orb of fire to bear, the flames pushing away the dark of the night and illuminating the pale walls of the foyer.

The hall was different from when he had last seen it. No longer were gifts of fruit to the false gods ever present, nor were the torches that usually kept the hall bright during nights lit.

He walked slowly, his eyes scanning the various cabinets and tables along the hall for signs of life, but the empty hall simply sat silent.

When Spite reached the stairs that lead to the second floor of the hall, he frowned, grimacing at the state of the staircase.

"I wonder what the old man is doing." Spite muttered to himself, his mind drifting to the ancient woodworker who had spent many hours polishing the staircase over previous visits to the hall.

When he looked up again, he only had a moment to notice the figure at the top of the staircase.

And the vase held overhead.

* * *

"So, what was it that you found?" Ashe asked the soldier who had ridden back.

The man coughed weakly before he glanced around, clearly uncomfortable with so many eyes on him.

"Douglas." Ashe said calmly.

"On it." The old bandit said, shooing away the other archers who seemed to have nothing to do.

Ashe turned back to the man.

"We found some of them." The man said.

"In a camp?" Ashe asked.

"In pieces." His subordinate explained. "Looks like someone- no, something got to them."

Ashe nodded grimly. "I suspect I may have an idea what."

"I thought the beast you had mentioned was a mirage of the heat." The man managed slowly. "But now I'm glad I didn't have to see it."

"How long had they been dead?" Ashe asked.

The man shook his head. "Good long while. The place had all sorts of buzzards and scavengers nearby."

Ashe nodded. "Regardless, I'm ordering that we pull out."

The man nodded. "Sooner we can get to camp, the better."

Ashe nodded. "When day breaks, I'll have Sylvain and Ingrid returned to the main camp."

The man nodded before he paused. "We found something else."

"What?" Ashe asked.

"One of the men had been torn in half, but we managed to find an intact insignia on his armour."

Ashe nodded. "Do you have it?"

"One of the others made a sketch." The man replied.

"Have they returned?" Ashe asked.

The man glanced in the direction of the road where the slaughter had occurred. "I can't be sure. They said they would pack up and go but-"

"You're worried of the beast." Ashe finished.

The man nodded.

Ashe nodded as he rose to his feet. "Douglas!"

The former bandit nodded. "What is it that you need?"

"You are in command until I return." Ashe said. "When day breaks, ensure Sylvain and Ingrid return to camp. It will be too dangerous to transport two unconscious people in the dark."

"And where are you going?" Douglas asked.

"I'm going to check on the others. Make sure they know that we're headed back to camp once their investigation wraps up."

Douglas nodded. "Alright then. Are you leaving now?"

Ashe nodded as he picked up his bow. "See you back in the camp."

"Ride safely." Douglas said seriously.

Ashe nodded. "If the other two wake up early, explain to them where I've gone."

Douglas nodded. "Still, you know why I'm generally uncomfortable around him."

Ashe nodded. "Still, there's little choice in the matter. If all is well, I'll join you again before either of them wake."

Douglas nodded before he saluted Ashe.

Ashe managed a brief nod before he hurried away.

* * *

Hubert inched quietly past Dorothea's door, Bernadetta behind him.

To their credit, Dorothea did not storm out of her room to stop them from interfering with Lady Edelgard's date.

She simply sat at the foot of the stairs, a ghostly grin spreading across her face when she saw Hubert.

"Hi Hubie. Hi Bernie." Dorothea said as she looked up. "Going somewhere?"

"You will not stop us." Hubert said coldly.

"Of course not!" Dorothea said with a nod to the dining room. "We will stop you. Isn't that right Monica?"

The crimson head of Monica von Ochs popped briefly out of the dining area, the red haired girl seemingly stunned for a moment as she realized it was Hubert that was staring back at her.

"Like I was saying Hubie, it's not just me stopping you."

Hubert frowned. "Will you move if I promise to not chase Lady Edelgard?"

"Of course! I'll even go with you to prove it!"

Hubert blinked. "Pardon?"

"I'll go with you to make sure you don't interrupt their date. If you do interrupt their date- well, sorry Bernie."

Bernadetta blinked. "Did I do something wrong?"

Hubert gritted his teeth. "Very well then, Dorothea. You may… accompany us."

"Monica!" Dorothea called.

"Yes?" Monica von Ochs asked, cheerfully hurrying over to the other three.

"We are about to get going." Dorothea said with a slight grin.

"Why do you wish to bring her along? The fewer people come, the less the chance we are spotted." Hubert reasoned.

"Hubie." Dorothea replied with a smile. "I don't trust you to not hit me over the head when my back is turned."

Hubert looked mildly offended. "I would never use such methods!"

"You would hit me on the head even without my head being turned." Dorothea guessed.

Hubert looked even more offended. "I would not sloop to using physical violence when there are quicker, cleaner ways to achieve the same result."

Dorothea turned to Monica with an eyeroll. "Right. Hubie is why I need you to come along with me."

Monica looked at Hubert before she nodded nervously. "Do I have a choice in this?"

Dorothea chuckled. "Of course you don't sweetie. Of course you don't."

Bernadetta patted Monica on the shoulder before the two of them were dragged out of the tavern by their respective partners.

* * *

"So what was it about you and Spite earlier?" Yurius asked Mortis as he slipped into the darkness of the night.

"Couldn't sleep either?" Mortis asked as she turned to greet her partner.

"No. I suppose not." Yurius replied.

"Did my confession keep you up?" Mortis asked.

"I suppose I played my hand too early with the opener." Yurius said.

Mortis nodded. "You did. Not a good way to start a conversation."

Yurius sighed before he turned away. "Why did Aranea want Spite dead?"

Mortis paused at the question, as if surprised by how blunt it was.

"None of us knew at the time, but it was over the Penemue papers." She admitted at last.

"The papers Aranea wrote?"

"Spite wrote them actually. Aranea took credit for it."

"Why?" Yurius asked.

"I don't know. It's not a topic I really asked anyone about in depth."

"What do you know about the incident then?"

"They got into a fight over it. I think Aranea felt threatened that she would be exposed by Spite."

"So where did you come in?" Yurius asked. "Because last time I checked, killing a member of the ruling council is high treason."

"She said that she wanted him out of the way. Made him seem like he was weak and undeserving of his position."

"Was he?" Yurius asked.

"Did you watch the fight?" Mortis asked.

"No. I was busy hunting boar in the mountains. Didn't get back until two days later."

"The other five got a glancing hit in each. Then he slaughtered them."

Yurius swallowed. "Weren't you supposed to be there?"

"I was late." Mortis explained. "They locked the doors to make sure he didn't escape."

"So you couldn't get in then." Yurius said.

"We broke down the door before the massacre was over." Mortis explained.

"Really?" Yurius asked.

"Spite had killed three of them by then, and broke the necks of the last two before anyone could get to him."

"Why?"

"He didn't want it traced to Aranea. He didn't want her to spend her final moments at the end of a noose."

"He tell you that?" Yurius asked.

"I've learned enough about him by being close to him." Mortis replied. "He really cared for his sisters, no matter what shit they stirred up."

"Is that why we were sent on, well, you know?" Yurius asked, frowning.

"Kronya was a loose cannon. You knew it, I knew it, Spite knew it, everyone did."

A drunken laugh spilled out from behind them, and both Mortis and Yurius spun around.

"I smashed that little snake-" The drunken form of Leonie babbled. "Right there on the noggin."

Mortis exchanged a glance with Yurius as she took a step back.

"Wish I killed her." Leonie continued, her face flushed. "But that Colon guy got there first."

Mortis frowned. "Leonie, you are drunk. Go to sleep."

"Ya want to know the truth?" Leonie half laughed, half slurred. "I watched him rip her hear out."

"Heart?" Yurius asked, disgust in his voice.

"Tha Forbiden Dimension of Zahra!" Leonie babbled as she clenched her fist weakly, pulling her arm back in the process.

Yurius winced as the momentum of the action carried Leonie backwards, and the orange haired woman sprawled to the mud in an undignified position.

"Mortis. You alright?" Yurius asked.

Mortis blinked. "How the hell does she know what the Forbidden Dimension of Zahras is?"

Yurius blinked. "I'm not sure I follow."

"It's a secondary dimension some long dead overlord had forged before the fall." Mortis said quietly.

"Spite mentioned that he used it from time to time." Yurius offered.

"I went through it once." Mortis admitted after a moment. "Of course, I was with Spite at the time."

"Why didn't he let the rest of us use it then?" Yurius asked as he prodded the unconscious form of Leonie with his toe. "Sounds like a great way to move undetected."

"The entire damn thing was cursed. It's infested with ghosts."

Yurius took a small step back from Leonie and looked at his partner strangely. "I didn't hear that correctly. Did you just say ghosts?"

"The entire dimension was filled with ghosts." Mortis explained.

"Where did the ghosts come from?" Yurius asked.

"When Old Agartha burned, a portion of the population managed to escape to the Forbidden Dimension." Mortis explained.

"I don't get it." Yurius replied. "How does that lead to ghosts?"

"Because when they got into Zahras, they lost the means to get out of Zahras. By the time anyone in Shambhala cared to investigate, they only found bones."

Yurius swallowed. "Are you certain of that?"

"I'm glad that I'm not certain of that fact." Mortis replied. "The guy who allegedly found the remains of the victims turned himself into that damn statue that Spite showed you."

Yurius blinked. "And how did you know of this anyways?"

"Spite." Mortis muttered in response as she glanced over the crumpled form of Leonie.

"And why did he know?"

"You guys alright out there?" Ignatz called.

Yurius responded first. "Leonie has passed out. Do you mind helping us carry her back into a room?"

Ignatz grimaced at the sight of the unconscious woman, but nodded regardless.

"We can talk later." Yurius said as Mortis turned away.

"Aren't you going to help her?" Ignatz asked.

"If we switched positions, would she help me?" Mortis asked with a scoff.

Ignatz and Yurius both gave the woman a stern look, one that she replied in kind.

"Fine then, I suppose she wouldn't help you either."

"If you want, I'll hold the door for you, but nothing more." Mortis offered.

The two men exchanged a glance before Yurius nodded. "Alright. Door it is then."

* * *

"You know that's a bad idea." Spite offered with a slow, grim smile.

The figure at the top of the staircase took a small step back, the vase lowered.

"You've lost your advantage." Spite continued. "You should have thrown it when I wasn't aware of your presence."

The figure took a step back. "Who are you?"

Spite blinked. The voice was most certainly female.

"I asked you once." The woman said. "Who are you?"

Spite replied by lighting an orb of flame in his hand, the fire illuminating the pale face of the woman.

The woman seemed surprised by the use of magic, and stumbled back, flinching when she found the wall behind her, the vase hastily dropped onto the ground.

"I am the acting commander of a regiment of soldiers in this region." Spite offered. "If you don't mind me asking, are there any other guests in this hall?"

"There's two drunks in the basement." The woman said. "I thought you were one of them."

"Drunks?" Spite asked.

"Two nobodies. One of them groped me earlier."

Spite frowned. "Are you alright?"

"No."

"I'm in service with the empire." Spite explained. "I'm here to hunt down two deserters from my unit."

The woman frowned. "If it's the two bastards in the basement, then I suppose it'll help me sleep better."

Spite nodded. "Which room are they keeping them in?"

"Third on the left."

"Basement floor?" Spite asked.

"Down the servant stairs, yes."

Spite nodded as he turned back down. "If it's the two of them I'm looking for, I'll let you know."

The woman nodded. "What unit are you from?"

"A border patrol unit." Spite replied. "We watch the border for intrusions and bandits."

"The war is over."

"There are still smugglers who need to be stopped. Plus, this is a fairly troubled region. There's been a force stationed here ever since the Ordelia incident."

The woman nodded before she turned away. "Are you familiar with the basement of the building?"

"Fairly. I came to the town frequently before the war broke out."

The woman nodded weakly before she glanced at the staircase again. "I'll go down with you in any case."

"Are you sure?" Spite asked. "I would assume that you would be happy if they never saw you again."

"I am." The woman replied. "May I ask what you intend to do with them?"

"Desertion is a crime with only a single acceptable punishment." Spite informed the woman.

The woman nodded at that with a grimace. "You are based in the mountains to the south?"

Spite nodded as he began to walk down the stairs, an orb of fire lighting the way for his companion.

"Does it rain frequently?" The woman asked. "Soldiers that I know hate rain and how it ruins their tents and clothes."

"We are based in a cave system within the mountain. Rain is rarely a concern." Spite explained.

The woman nodded but paused even as she continued her walk down the steps.

"Third room to the left then?" Spite asked as he peered into the darkness of the basement, his flames weak and flickering before he forced more of his magic into the fire, the flames roaring to life ever stronger.

The woman next to him made a noise of confirmation.

"Why are you helping them anyhow?" Spite asked, a thin smile on his face as he turned away from the stairs.

The woman blinked. "Pardon?"

"The third room to the left isn't the drunk tank. It's the servant baths."

The woman staggered back as Spite turned his eyes toward her.

"Let me guess, your little plan was to shove me into a bath the moment my back was turned, and then have your friends flee to a place where I cannot hunt them."

"Why would I lie about being groped?"

"They know better than to step out of line. The last man who groped a woman took many hours to die at my hand."

The woman grimaced as she took a step back, her deception revealed. "The war is over. Surely there's no reason for you to go after two kitchen staff."

"Well." Spite said quietly. "I suppose we can both speak candidly then?"

The woman made a nervous glance around the room as she staggered back. "Very well then, are you willing to let these two walk away from here?"

"Yes. If they cooperate, we'll march them back rather than drag them back. It will save my men a great deal of effort."

The woman took a step back. "You can't be serious."

"Just watch me." Spite said firmly.

"We will not go quietly." A voice spoke up.

"Took you two worms long enough." Spite muttered as he turned to the man who had spoken. "Pardon me if I don't believe your claim."

"You killed that boy." The man said with anger in his voice. "We would have told Thales."

"Very funny. And why would I have killed Ryan?"

"You kill anyone who gets close to Mortis. She has you wrapped around her finger."

Spite blinked as he looked at the man who had spoken. "You honestly believe that garbage?"

"You killed Wilhelm. You just admitted it yourself."

"That useless shit had it coming." Spite replied. "Clearly none of you ever heard the full story."

The men glanced at each other.

"I don't understand." One said at last.

"Yes, I dragged out the death of Wilhelm." Spite said. "And I was cheered as I drew his mutilated carcass through the halls of Shambhala."

The men looked at him with stunned faces.

"And do you know why people were unhappy with my actions?" Spite asked.

The man on the left took a step back as Spite took a step forward.

"Because they didn't have the chance to kill the bastard themselves."

The man on the right grimaced. "But you had no right to act as his executioner!"

"I agree I was not his executioner, well, not officially anyways."

Spite paused as he studied the looks on the faces of the two men.

"But I am yours."

The man on the left gave a great cry as he rushed forward, fists raised as if to fight.

Spite waited for a moment before he opened his coat, pulling his dagger from its folds.

The man came ever closer as Spite readied his blade.

Then the man threw a vicious right hook into the face of Spite.

But yet the blow did not come, for the slender frame of the man was not where it had been a split second prior, the mage having deftly dodged the attack.

But the punch, a result of a charging giant, continued, and the man seemed to realize too late that the woman next to Spite did not have the reflexes of a veteran magi.

The punch struck home even as the woman seemed to realize what had happened and where the punch was going to fall, the blow dropping the woman to the ground as the man seemed to stare in horror at what he had wrought.

Then Spite slammed his Athame into the man's stomach.

The man seemed surprised as Spite dragged the blade up and out, the sharp tip of the dagger opening flesh and blood.

As the man slowly crumpled to the floor, his hands feebly trying to stop the blood leaking from his body, Spite turned to the other man, an orb of fire turning up in his hand.

"I can offer you a way out of this." Spite said calmly.

The man laughed, a bitter, cold noise. "What? Through the end of a noose?"

"That is the secondary option, but it's not unheard of to leave a single member of a particular group untouched."

"You already have her don't you?" The man asked nervously.

"She is only guilty of botching a food order. And for that, she will be untouched." Spite said. "You lot on the other hand, are guilty of desertion."

"Why should I accept your deal then?" The man asked.

"Because the mountains are difficult to traverse even in broad daylight, much less in the dark on no sleep." Spite replied. "If you are willing to help drag your friend out with you, I will see to it that you are unharmed when judgement falls on the other four."

The man scoffed. "The other three are dead."

"Two." Spite corrected. "This piece of lard will bleed out within the hour, and I've already dispatched your friend who has had an accident."

The man on the floor moaned.

"Offer isn't valid to you." Spite snapped. "You are the only one of this group who has attempted to assault a superior officer."

"What will you do to me?" The still standing man asked as Spite kicked the man on the floor.

"You'll scrub the toilets clean until I either get tired of seeing you or until someone else annoys me enough to take your place." Spite offered as he turned away from the downed man in disgust.

The man swallowed. "Doesn't seem like I have much of a choice."

"Not true." Spite replied. "You have many choices here. All but one simply will end with your death."

The small man turned to look at the form of his former comrade, looking at him with pleading eyes.

"Should you choose to accept my offer, you will carry this maggot out of the servant doors." Spite said, pointing toward a dark hallway. "There will be other soldiers on the other side. You will surrender to them."

"And what about you?" The man asked.

"I have to deal with the other mess here." Spite replied, gesturing to the crumpled form of the woman lying on the ground.

"Should I dump him by the door?" The man asked as he glanced down the hallway.

"Fine by me." Spite replied as he hauled the crumpled form of the woman over his shoulder.

* * *

Byleth groaned when the bright crimson head of Monica von Ochs was hastily dragged into an alley by a figure that was most certainly not Dorothea Arnault.

"What's wrong?" Edelgard asked.

"Hubert just dragged Monica into an alley." Byleth replied, failing to keep the amusement out of his voice.

"Ah." Edelgard muttered. "And I thought we could just have the night to ourselves."

"Such are the burdens of an emperor." Byleth replied.

Edelgard snorted. "When I left that meeting with you, I just so happened to run into Hubert hiding in the nearest closet."

Byleth chuckled. "I'm thinking we surprise them."

Edelgard's eyes flashed with interest at the proposal, and a grin spread across her face when she heard the plan.

"You know what my favourite part of all this is?" Edelgard whispered.

"The look on their faces when we dupe them?"

Edelgard chuckled. "You know, I just found a new favourite part."

"Good." Byleth said with a grin.

* * *

"Do you think they saw us?" Bernadetta asked nervously, seemingly subconsciously clinging to Monica.

"Yes!" Dorothea fumed. "And it's all Hubie's fault!"

"What did I do?" Hubert asked, his arms firmly crossed over his chest.

"You're too tall!" Dorothea snapped. "You were too obvious in the light!"

"Yes, but it was Monica who was last to get out of the way, was it not?" Hubert shot back, glaring at the crimson haired girl.

Monica von Ochs suddenly did a very accurate Bernadetta impression, her arms clinging around the purple haired girl in abject terror.

Dorothea replied by firmly planting a finger in Hubert's chest. "This is your fault! Now Edie is going to be furious for us ruining her date!"

Bernadetta yelped at her words. "Ruined date? Oh-... They'll kill Bernie!"

"No. If Lady Edelgard was asleep, then perhaps we can sneak into our quarters without waking her." Hubert said. "If we do that, we can convince the Professor to let us go."

Bernadetta and Monica both promptly shut up, though they still shared an awkward embrace until Dorothea gently broke the two of them up.

"Remember." Hubert said with seriousness on his face. "We must be very quiet."

Dorothea nodded as they approached the tavern door.

Which swung open.

"_AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEE" _Hubert screeched as he jumped back, a hand over his chest and a look of sheer terror on his face, his arms raised in a position that could have been interpreted in either a desperate attempt to defend himself or a very sudden surrender. .

Dorothea yelped in shock, though her reaction was considerably more graceful than Hubert, who had landed on Monica in his surprise.

Bernadetta simply fainted, her eyes rolling into her head as she stood before them, slack jawed.

Edelgard laughed, though she concealed it with a weak and unconvincing cough.

Byleth smiled as he reached out to Hubert, his grip slightly stronger than necessary when pulling the dark haired man up.

Monica hastily composed herself, dusting off her clothes before she hastily curtsied, fleeing with a face as red as her hair as she did so.

"Lovely night to have a walk, isn't it?" Byleth asked all too cheerfully.

"Yes, of course." Hubert managed, having recovered quickly.

"I'm glad to see that you are all enjoying the weather here." Edelgard offered. "Where did you go for a walk?"

Hubert and Dorothea exchanged a nervous glance before Dorothea spoke.

"We went on a group walk to the- town! Yes, that's right. The town!"

Byleth nodded with a knowing smile. "Very well then, pardon us. We'll be headed in for the night."

"Good night then Professor, Lady Edelgard." Hubert offered.

"Night Professor, Edie." Dorothea said quickly as she turned to help the stunned form of Bernadetta, still somehow upright despite having fainted.

Byleth and Edelgard barely got to their room before they collapsed into giggling fits.

* * *

It was a few moments before daybreak that Gregory Dominic was awoken by a nervous knock on his door.

"Is something amiss?" The baron asked as he glanced at the box that guarded Crusher, the ancient weapon having been secured with little difficulty.

"There has been a number of landings by Imperial forces on the beach." The servant said nervously.

"Imperial forces?" Gregory Dominic said in surprise.

"Are you leading here?" A woman asked behind the nervous face of the guard.

Gregory Dominic glanced at the dark cloak over the shoulders of the young woman and nodded. "I am."

"We bring many trees." The woman said.

A gruff voice cleared his throat from behind the woman, and a short, grim faced man nodded as he stood before them.

"Are boats empty?" The woman asked.

The man replied quickly in a foreign language that Gregory Dominic vaguely recognized as a common tongue from Brigid.

"Will you helping?" The woman asked.

It was only when he realized that his servant was looking at him that he spoke up. "Of course, what will I need to do?"

"General Bergliez?" The woman asked.

The man nodded. "The lumber is in the process of being unloaded from our ships."

"How long will it take before you are finished?" Gregory Dominic asked.

"Anywhere between one more hour and three." General Bergliez explained. "Are there any spare forces you have?"

Gregory Dominic frowned. "I was about to leave for Garreg Mach earlier."

"Garreg Mach!" The woman explained.

General Bergliez blinked. "The convoy will be considerably slower than if you were to travel alone. Lady Macneary."

"I would wish to see my friends soon."

The man paused for a second, glancing back to the unit behind them.

"I cannot allow that." Bergliez said finally. "My orders are to watch over you."

The woman shook her head as she said something in another language, and Gregory watched in bewilderment as the two of them argued.

Finally, the older man nodded, though he had a grimace on his face when he spoke.

"Baron Dominic, correct?" General Bergliez asked as he turned to Gregory.

"That is correct." Gregory replied, watching the man carefully.

"May I entrust Lady Macneary to you? The lumber convoy will take too long before it can reach Garreg Mach, and the matter with the Emperor is urgent."

Gregory Dominic nodded. "I will prepare a separate carriage in that case."

"No, I wish to go carriage with you." The woman said.

Gregory Dominic closed his eyes as Bergliez hurried away. "Very well then. Edwin."

"Yes, Lord?" The servant asked.

"Rouse the kitchens. See to it that there is additional food prepared for Lady Macneary."

* * *

"What the hell are you doing back here?" Bias asked the lone rider who stood before her. "Where are the others?"

The man swallowed slowly. "They're dead. The Wind Caller came with an army."

Bias stared at the man with disgust in her eyes. "Either tell me what happened or I will personally hand you to Spite."

"I told you!" The man screamed in fear, backing off a step as he raised his hands in surrender. "There was an army in the desert."

"There's not enough water in the desert to sustain an army." One of the other soldiers behind Bias muttered. "And that's before you mention food."

The man swallowed as more soldiers turned to him, their faces cold and gaunt.

"I will be reasonable." Bias snarled. "If you tell me everything that happened, I will spare you from an early grave."

The man swallowed. "When our task force reached the Wind Caller, we encountered a large task force of human soldiers."

"Bullshit." Bias hissed.

"They just refused to die!" The man protested. "For every one that we fell, two more came to replace him!"

"So what did you do then?" Bias asked, rubbing her temples in annoyance. "Flee with your tail between you legs?"

"We made a strategic retreat" The man protested. "We tried to make it to Thales, but we ran into Imperial Army forces in Fhirdiad."

"So you turned to us here." Bias snarled. "Were you followed?"

The man took another step back as a roar shook the tower.

"Guess that answers the question." Bias hissed. "Guards! Seize this worm."

"You need me!" The soldier protested.

"Yes, as a source of information." Bias spat. "If I didn't require information, I'd send you to Zaharas myself!"

"Boss!" A voice from the upper levels of the tower shouted. "There's an army coming!"

Bias swore in gutter Agarthan, a choice set of curse words she had learned from Aranea over a decade prior. "Heavy infantry! Guard the gates. Mages and archers, on me!"

* * *

Macuil almost gagged at the unmistakable stench of the Agarthan force within the tower as his phantom legion formed up.

A rumble from his belly made him pause.

"I shouldn't have eaten those Agarthans." Macuil muttered to nobody in particular.

An arrow however, distracted him, though the shot bounced harmlessly off one of his scales.

Macuil glanced up as he saw the rest of the Agarthan force that he had been hunting, a dozen shadowy figures hidden in the upper reaches of the tower, each one either aiming an arrow at him or an orb of magic.

As he watched, a single figure appeared in view at the top floor of the tower.

For a long moment, the figure glared at him, and even from a great distance, he felt the unfettered hatred spill from the woman.

Then she raised her arm, and Macuil barely blinked as a roar of dark magic tore through his body.

* * *

Bias growled as she watched the dragon from her perch on the top floor of the tower, her eyes scanning for any sign of damage suffered on the part of the dragon.

"Lady Bias!" One of her senior captains called. "We are preparing for a bombardment!"

"Then fire you mindless worm!" Bias snapped back, annoyed as she turned to face the soldier before her.

"Fire!" The captain shouted when he turned to the archers and lesser magi below.

Almost instantly, a dozen arrows and orbs of fire fell upon the legions before them, ghostly figures turning to dust as they fell, the rest of the phantom legion slowly withdrawing to mend their formation.

"We did it!" The man beside her shouted. "Launch an attack! Exploit the opening!"

Something inside Bias flickered as she looked upon the dragon before her.

The dragon, visible even from a distance, had smiled.

"The only battle you should take is an execution." The voice of Spite whispered, somewhere from the depths of her mind.

"Stop!" Bias screamed, her voice failing past the first word as she met the eyes of the beast.

But it was too late. A dozen soldiers had already been teleported forward, past the front line of the phantom legion, screaming as they charged the form of the dragon.

And then the beast was gone.

* * *

Macuil found that his human form was unfamiliar to say the least, though he felt comfort in holding his sword and shield one more time.

He gave the mage one final glance before he turned to face the dozen masked soldiers stunned before him.

Before they could react, he rammed his sword through the closest soldier, the blade cutting deep as he leapt forward.

The falling body of their comrade seemed to remind the rest of the force that they stood in the middle of a battle, though Macuil knew it was too late for them to escape their deaths.

Already, members of his phantom battation had turned their blades to the intruders before their leader, and the two closest Agarthans had already been assailed by the rearguard of his defence force, their black armour disappearing under the white uniforms of his personal guard.

With a scream, an enemy swordsman charged him, his sword held high.

Macuil ducked under the attack and rammed the soldier with his shield, narrowly dodging a blade aimed at his throat a moment later.

Then he headbutted the soldier before him, staggering the man as he slashed at the soldier behind him, his blade clashing hard against the armour of the soldier.

The soldier took a step back.

"A fatal mistake." Macuil said out loud.

* * *

Bias felt a burning anger within her.

"If only I had Spite here." She muttered as she watched the first teleport wave meet their end, torn asunder as legions of shadowy soldiers tore them apart.

"Hold the gate!" Bias shouted, though she found her voice drowned out by the lines of soldiers who had rushed out of the tower, having found sight of their hated enemy.

Bias turned to the captain, but found him gone.

"Bloodthirsty maggot." Bias hissed as she stormed from the ramparts of the tower, ignoring the dozen or so archers firing madly into the frantic melee.

* * *

Macuil stepped to the front lines as his reserve company parted before him, the soldiers of his forces that had fallen to stray arrows rising up once more as he waited.

His front line had grown rather thin, the heavy infantry units he had fielded had been slowly broken as more and more Agarthans trampled their dead and dying to charge him.

Then he willed his true reserve forward, and the shouts of battle and triumph died.

His aerial battalions were quick, much faster than his initial force, and the Agarthans trying to storm out of the tower did not see them.

The Agarthans who did turned and fled, blocked by the bodies of their own comrades still within the tower.

Macuil let a slow, cold, smile spread across his face as he stalked into the courtyard of the main fort, his sword lowered as he marched forward.

"Come!" Macuil called the mass of soldiers before him, his booming voice overriding the screams of the last dying Agarthans. "Where is your leader?"

For a moment, the Agarthan legions seemed to freeze as they stared at the figure before them who had spoken.

"Are you lead by a coward?" Macuil questioned out loud. "A spineless witch who will hide behind the corpses of her followers?"

For a moment the crowd fell silent, soldiers standing and gawking at the man who had spoken.

Then the woman warped before him, and Macuil almost laughed.

* * *

Bias almost snarled at the presence of the beast as she rose to her full height, her eyes disgusted by the animal that dared to pretend to be human.

"I will kill you." Bias hissed as she levied a spear crackling with electricity at the man-shaped dragon.

The dragon cracked his head in response, no longer taunting her.

With a shout of rage, Bias charged forward, her lance clashing against the sword and shield of the dragon, the resulting clash of steel forcing her to take a small step back.

The dragon seemed to watch her as it took a step forward.

Bias responded with a stab at the leg of the beast, her rage fueling her every step as she launched three quick attacks at the beast.

The dragon laughed openly as it swatted away her attacks, the third thrust outright hitting nothing but thin air.

Bias felt rage in her heart as she unleashed a blast of shadow, the powerful attack erupting around the man-shaped dragon and devouring his frame in darkness.

A cheer rose up from the crowd as the phantom legions broke, their broken bodies fading with their leader.

Bias was the first to see it, with the figure coldly stepping out from the shadow of the attack.

The cheering crowd fell silent as Macuil stalked forward, his face impassive as he stepped out of the smoke.

* * *

Macuil watched the look of surprise on the face of the Agarthan commander turn into horror.

He took three steps toward the woman, his eyes locked into hers as he finally went to attack.

She barely resisted his first attack, a downward cut that she barely managed to parry, though she didn't seem to realize his shield was coming for her head.

The blow was heavy and vicious, and the woman staggered back, her hands having lost the grip on her lance.

Then Macuil stepped forward, slamming the bottom tip of his shield into the exposed midsection of the woman, the thin dress of the woman proving to be poor armour under the weight of his shield.

The blow left the woman gasping for breath and finally seemed to shatter the morale of the assembled Agarthan forces, the shattered remnants of the task force turning and fleeing into the tower, leaving their leader behind to die.

* * *

When the sword tore through the soft flesh of her belly and buried itself deep inside her intestines, Bias let out a cry of agony.

Then the blade was torn free of her a moment later, she barely managed a weak gurgle, the fight having sapped the last of her strength.

She lay there in the mud for a long moment, her headdress having been knocked from her head by a phantom soldier as her lifeblood mixed with the earth below her.

"The only battle you should take is an execution." Spite had reminded her over a decade prior.

"Oh." Bias whispered as she felt her head become light. "It was my execution then."

When the sun peaked on the distant horizon, its first rays were blocked by the trees around the tower, followed by the black stone of the fortress itself.

When the light of the sun filled the eyes of Bias, she couldn't see it anymore.

* * *

"Are we ready to move into Zaharas?" Chilon asked as he watched Thales carefully.

The leader of Shambhala slowly put down his empty tea cup and watched the commander carefully.

"Has there been any word from Pittacus or Bias?" Thales asked calmly.

Chilon shook his head. "Neither force has reported anything of interest in the last twenty-four hours."

Thales nodded. "So be it. We will march into Zaharas."

"Shall I wake the condemned?"

"No. They will have to be carried to the grounds regardless. I had their limbs broken to prevent any attempt to escape."

"Sounds like something Spite would do."

"I would like to remind you that his official name is Periander, which he took upon the death of my predecessor." Thales said.

"Right." Chilon said. "I'll prepare a bodyguard unit."

"No need." Thales said. "The previous Periander created a relic that allowed us to quicken our work."

"I was told by S-Periander that the device could be dangerous."

"It is, but I do not fear the dead of Zaharas." Thales said. "Periander is too considerate of the weak to truly be effective enough to win the war."

"Very well then." Chilon said as he shut the door behind him.

* * *

**AN: **Right. Chapter 16 is done. It is by far the longest chapter I've done to date (with the AN section, it's sitting at 7500+ words).

Potential questions I see coming from readers:

**Who is Periander? **

Periander is the "Official" name for Spite. Basically, only Thales uses it. In canon, the command cadre of Shambhala seems to be based off of the Seven Sages of Greece (Only exception to this seems to be Cornelia). Six names are canon within the game (Thales, Solon, Myson, Pittacus, Bias, and Chilon). I completed the set with the name Periander, which I gave to Spite. I plan to expand on the naming system in the near future.

**Why did I write Macuil to be so bloodthirsty and aggressive?**

Macuil is the strategist of the Four Saints. In this particular battle, he used the eagerness of the Agarthan force against them, later breaking their morale by defeating Bias in combat. Also, since he was facing the forces of his archenemy (Agartha), and was in fact stalking the remnants of the task force that had tried to kill him, I made him much more aggressive and brutal than the limited screen time we see in game, where he's merely "fighting" against the children of the Elites.

**Why was this chapter so slow?**

I had considerable difficulty with writing the "kidnap" scene that came with Spite. I toyed with multiple drafts that saw him subdue the traitors in different ways, but ultimately went with the idea that he terrorized one into cooperating with him. Also, I had IRL things (New Years, school starting again).

**Stuff in the next chapter:**

Thales goes on a field trip.

Cicol and Cethleann explain things.

Spite does mean things to people.

More problems in the north.

More people in carriages.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Divine Right.

* * *

"You alright?" Yurius asked as he sat down next to his partner at the breakfast table the tavern offered.

Mortis glared at him in response, and Yurius noticed the dark rings around her eyes.

"Mori Mori, what the hell happened?"

Mortis sighed. "Call me that again and you'll wake up tomorrow with a slit throat."

"I'm serious though." Yurius continued. "You look like you haven't slept a wink."

Mortis paused as she took a sip of her tea, grimacing at the plain, almost flavourless taste. "That's because I haven't slept a wink."

"Is this related to Spite?"

Mortis glared at him before she looked away to scan the room. "Yes."

"Do you believe her?" Yurius asked. "Leonie I mean."

"I don't want to." Mortis replied, a flash of emotion in her eyes as she turned back. "But at the same time, she knows too much for it to be some kind of deranged fantasy."

"Why is that?" Yurius asked. "Why would Solon kill Kronya?"

"Two reasons." Mortis replied.

"What are those?"

"To open a portal to Zaharas requires the heart of a Agarthan." Mortis explained. "The closest heart next to Solon would have been Kronya."

"And what is the second reason?" Yurius asked.

"Because Solon once had a brother too."

"Who was this?"

"Thersites."

Yurius gave Mortis a blank look. "Alright. Fine. You're the only mage outside Spite, Aranea, and the Septet that I know by name."

Mortis sighed. "He was the last survivor of the assassination. Spite crushed his throat in front of half of Shambhala."

"Why the hell did Spite do that?" Yurius asked.

"He explained to me later on that he knew that Thersites would have run to his brother with the truth if he had been allowed to leave the room alive."

"So why did he spare you then?" Yurius asked.

"He needed someone to do dirty work for him" Mortis said with a roll of her eyes. "And of course, Kronya."

"What does she have to do with anything?" Yurius asked, raising an eyebrow as he poured himself a cup of tea.

"He needed me to be a guardian to Kronya whenever he wasn't able to do it himself."

"Kronya didn't enter service for years after the incident."

"He had me conduct other dirty work in the meanwhile." Mortis said with a shrug. "Still, the work was interesting."

"What kind of work do you mean?" Yurius asked after taking a sip of the tea.

"Cleanup." Mortis said, watching her partner carefully. "Remember, Cornelia became our… ally during that particular time."

"And what did you do for Spite?" Yurius asked.

"I travelled with Spite. Learned from him the finer points of stabbing a victim."

Yurius gave a quick glance around the room before he continued. "How long did this take?"

"Spite was recalled to Enbarr before we could finish, so he entrusted the rest of the work to me."

"How many?"

"Twelve in total. He taught me for nine of them. Knives, poison, magic, you name it. I finished off the last three alone."

"This when you learned to use Mire creatively?"

Mortis nodded. "I drove a man insane with hallucinations. The town guard finished him off without me lifting another finger."

"And what did you get out of it?"

"Apart from not killing me?" Mortis asked, watching Yurius carefully.

"Spite sent me a number of books he had pillaged from the libraries of Enbarr's noble estates." Mortis admitted finally.

"Just books?"

Mortis shook her head. "He has excellent taste in clothing."

"He bought you clothes?" Yurius asked in slight disbelief.

"The last target had made himself an important administrator in Duscar." Mortis explained. "I infiltrated a ball they had held and poisoned him. When I came back, Spite allowed me to keep the dress."

"Are incidents like this why I didn't see you much after the attempt on Spite's life?"

Mortis scoffed. "Spite was never in danger. He probably saw the assassination attempt happen from a mile away."

Yurius frowned before he changed the topic. "So after you killed this last guy, you stayed with A-erm, Cornelia?"

"Spite had me return to Cornelia until he could personally give me my next assignment. It was with the two of them that I watched Operation Noose unfold."

"And what assignment did you get after that?"

"Didn't get a major assignment until much later." Mortis replied. "Spite encouraged me to continue training over the years, and I only left Shambhala to join the occasional hunting expedition or to personally deliver a message to Cornelia."

"And then the Kronya mission." Yurius finished. "That was your first major mission after Noose."

Mortis nodded with a sigh. "And we all know how that ended."

"You think the others will be up late? Yurius asked.

"Ignatz and Lorenz should be up soon. Even if Leonie is awake, she'll be too hung over to be of any use."

"So we wait then?" Yurius asked.

"We don't have a carriage anymore remember?" Mortis shot back with a shrug. "We hardly have a choice."

* * *

Gilbert groaned as he opened his eyes, raising a hand to block out the sun that was far too strong for his liking.

"You are awake then." A voice said.

Gilbert tried to reply, but managed only a coughing fit that doubled him over.

"You should rest." The voice said. "We will reach Garreg Mach within the next two or three days."

The thought of the place that he had failed brought up memories that taunted Gilbert.

Fleeing the town in disgrace no less than twice, the crying face of his only child as she faced him in battle.

When Annette's face had been engulfed in flames and smoke, Gilbert shed a tear.

Indech turned to the two other travellers that had been kind enough to let him hitch a ride.

"I apologize." Indech said. "The wounds of my companion have yet to heal fully."

The couple smiled weakly in turn. "No, it's quite alright." The woman said. "I'm sure Garreg Mach has healers willing to help him."

Indech nodded. "Have you visited the site?"

The man nodded. "Not since the war broke out. What about you?"

Indech paused before he answered. "Not for a very long time, I'm afraid."

"Then it'll be an experience for all of us." The man said with a smile.

* * *

"Is he going to be alright?" Ingrid asked the gruff guard who stood by Sylvain's tent.

"I'm no medic, so I can't say." The guard said.

"Can't you guess?" Ingrid asked.

"He's been through a lot." One of the other guards offered helpfully.

"He was hit on the head when he fell." One of the few female guards offered.

"How did that happen?" Ingrid asked.

"He rode into a trap." The gruff guard explained. "Hit his head when his horse was knocked over."

Ingrid nodded. "Alright then."

"Is there anything else you need to know?" The lead guard asked. "Are you hungry or thirsty?"

"Where is Ashe?" Ingrid asked.

"Away." The man replied. "He left to collect the rearguard of our forces at the camp where we rescued you."

Ingrid nodded. "When he gets back, we return to the capital then?"

"Correct." The man replied. "We need to ensure that you and Gauthier here get treatment."

Ingrid frowned before she looked at the man. "Do I happen to know you?"

The man turned his head slightly in response, his eyes wary. "You might."

"Douglas, Ashe is coming back." One of the sentries called.

The gruff man nodded as he turned away from Ingrid. "I have work I must prepare for, pardon me."

* * *

"Hilda." Seteth said as he watched the woman climb down the stairs.

"Oh my, Seteth." Hilda replied. "How are you?"

Seteth turned to the statue of him that had been carved out so many centuries prior. "I suppose I have been better."

Hilda nodded as she sat down on a bench, Seteth joining her.

"Are you decided to change into a squirrel?" Seteth asked.

Hilda laughed at that, though she doubled over in a coughing fit.

"Hilda?" Marianne asked from the doorway. "What are you doing outside your room? You are still injured."

"Bored." Hilda replied with a shrug.

Marianne sighed as she turned to Seteth. "I apologize, Ci-Seteth."

"It's quite alright." Seteth replied. "But please, do call me Seteth."

Hilda looked at her friend strangely. "Ci?"

Seteth coughed lightly. "That is for another day."

Hilda frowned before she looked around, her eyes finding the statue of Saint Cichol.

"Your name is Cichol?" Hilda asked, enlightenment dawning on her face.

Marianne and Seteth exchanged a glance, but otherwise remained silent.

"Is it alright if I tell her?" Marianne asked.

Seteth nodded as he closed his eyes. "My name is Cichol, yes."

"Your parents named you after the saint?" Hilda asked.

"Hilda." Marianne said in a low voice. "Seteth _is _Saint Cichol."

Hilda gave Seteth a strange look before looking at the statue.

"Well, I see the resemblance." Hilda admitted. "Is Flayn-"

"Yes." Seteth said firmly. "If possible, I would like to end the conversation there."

"Alright then." Hilda said, her eyes unable to leave the statue of Saint Cethleann. "Wow."

Seteth remained quiet for a long moment. "Are there any other questions you want to ask me?"

"Why did you keep it a secret all this time?" Hilda asked. "About being Saint Cichol?"

Seteth grimaced. "We had enemies."

Hilda blinked. "We all have enemies."

Seteth opened his mouth as if to try to make another point, but closed his mouth shortly after.

"What is it about Arianrhod that you remember?" Seteth asked.

"Arianrhod?" Hilda asked. "I don't know. I didn't fight there."

"She was badly injured defending Derdriu." Marianne explained. "We evacuated her to Garreg Mach to ensure her injuries could be looked after."

Seteth nodded. "And how serious were the injuries?"

Marianne glared at Hilda before turning back to Seteth. "Ashe and Caspar had to carry her to Linhardt for healing."

Hilda shook her head. "All I remember is someone screaming for Ingrid."

"You had lost a lot of blood." Marianne chided her friend. "It's also why we aren't letting you out of your room until Manuela lets us."

Seteth closed his eyes as he seemed to be in thought. "May I change the topic?"

"Oh. That's right. You asked about Arianrhod." Marianne stammered. "I'll try to help as best I can."

"I was told the city was destroyed by javelins of light." Seteth said, his eyes locking with Marianne.

"It was." The blue haired woman replied. "A third of our army there was killed in the attack."

Seteth closed his eyes and whispered a single word.

"Hold on, isn't that the apple Linhardt is trying to find?" Hilda asked the equally confused Marianne.

"What do you know about Nemesis?" Seteth asked when he opened his eyes again, watching the two girls carefully.

Hilda and Marianne shared a glance, but otherwise didn't answer.

"Is there something about the War of Heroes we don't know about?" Hilda asked.

Seteth nodded. "When she was alive, Rhea spent a great deal of time crafting a story that was… acceptable to her objectives."

"So you're saying that we've been lied to all this time?" Linhardt asked from the doorway.

"Linhardt." Seteth said quietly. "How long have you been listening in?"

"I heard my name." The scholar replied as he came closer to the trio. "What was this about the Archbishop?"

Seteth grimaced. "When I came to my role in the church, I discovered that Rhea had created a history that was more appealing to the common people of Fodlan than the truth."

"So what you are saying is that there are things about history that Rhea lied to us about?" Linhardt asked.

Seteth paused for a moment before he nodded.

"What is it about history that isn't true then?" Hilda asked. "What did Rhea lie about?"

Seteth's eyes shifted for a moment as he seemed to attempt to gather the right words. "There are two particular lies that were spread."

"Just two?" Hilda asked.

"Two major ones." Seteth said, pausing before he continued. "It would take up too much time to recount all of them."

"Flayn, you can come out." Hilda called out.

A moment later, Flayn ran into the arms of her father, Seteth taking the time to hug his daughter before he continued.

"In the old war, the Elites were not our allies. They were thieves and murderers."

Flayn tightened her arms around the waist of Seteth, who paused in reply, his eyes watching the faces of the others quietly.

"I watched Nemesis kill my wife." Seteth admitted finally.

* * *

"Do you understand why I chose this site now?" Thales asked as he stepped forward in the early morning sun.

Chilon paused before he shook his head.

Thales sighed as his gaze settled on a trio of prisoners, each one of their faces branded with a black mark, signifying that they were condemned to death.

"This area is one particular nexus into the cursed domain of Zaharas." Thales said. "Periander would also tell you this is where the doomed escape from Old Agartha took place."

Chilon paused as Myson arrived at the scene, giving a faint salute as the three men focused on a stony, moss covered pavillion.

"Myson." Thales called.

"Yes my liege." Myson replied.

"Open a portal to Zaharas." Thales said.

"Just the six of us?" Myson asked.

Chilon gave the warlock a glare from behind his helmet, but said nothing as Thales turned to the unfortunate Myson.

"These three worms gave their right to live when they failed in service at Shangri-la. They are no longer considered part of _us_."

Myson swallowed as he looked upon the three prisoners, their bodies both broken and wasted away.

Slowly, Myson turned to Thales, who raised a pale hand, a stone heart in his embrace.

"Now, show me what Periander has taught you." Thales ordered.

Myson paused as he took the stone, glancing at the form of Chilon one final time before he began.

It began slowly at first, the smallest wisps of dark magic surrounding the air as Myson stood silent, sweat slipping from his face as he willed more magic into the dark stone.

Even Chilon took a nervous step back as Myson fell to one knee, though his movement was stopped by the appearance of a wall of dark fire.

With a powerful shout, Myson crushed the stone.

And then the darkness consumed them.

* * *

"There's probably not much left." Spite said as he glanced down the crevice that held the remains of the last deserter.

"Yeah." The repentant deserter admitted. "That's where we dumped him."

Spite nodded as he threw an orb of fire down below, the flames cutting through the mist of the early morning.

At the sight of the dead body, even the hardened killers of the warband winced.

"Do we have to go down there?" The only female archer asked, becoming more and more pale by the second.

"I have no intention of going down there." Spite said. "Neither do I expect any of you to go."

The leader of the warband nodded as he waved his men forward.

"Are you sure about not going down there?" One of the other members of the warband asked.

"Why would I be not sure?" Spite asked.

"Isn't there a protocol of taking the heart of the dead from them?"

"Correct." Spite said. "Good of you to remember our regulations."

"So, erm, why are we not following that regulation?" The man asked.

Spite chuckled as he pulled a stone from the folds of his coat. "Already done. But good observation regardless."

"When did you take that?" The female archer asked, looking mildly disgusted.

"When I first climbed down there." Spite replied. "I determined that it wasn't going to be practical to get him out, so I punished him early."

The two deserters exchanged a nervous glance.

"No matter. We'll return to base." Spite said. "I'm sure that you are all tired."

"Oh, did the two of you see anything relating to the kid that was killed?" The lead archer asked the two cooks standing before them.

"The kid who was killed?" The man asked, his voice surprised. "I didn't know that someone was dead."

"Ryan, the young man who came from Shangri-la." Spite explained. "A soldier found him stabbed to death in the mess hall."

The cook seemed stunned. "I had no idea. I was asleep at the time and everything."

Spite nodded. "Worth a try regardless."

"Who do you think it was?" The lead archer asked.

"Did I tell you that my office was broken into the night Ryan was killed?" Spite asked.

The warband froze.

"Someone broke into your office?" The female archer asked, her jaw dropping low.

"The door had been blown off its hinges." Spite confirmed.

The warband exchanged gazes, but otherwise remained silent.

"No matter. I suspect this case will resolve itself."

The crew paused. "What do you mean by that?"

"Just a question of human nature, nothing more." Spite said as he turned back to Shambhala.

* * *

"What is in box?" Petra asked the man sitting before her in the carriage.

Gregory Dominic shuffled uncomfortably as he exchanged a glance with Madeline, his hands firmly clasped in his lap.

"It's alright Gregory." His sister in law said gently. "She'll understand."

"It's a gift." Gregory explained weakly.

"A gift?" The dark skinned woman asked.

Gregory paused before he spoke again. "Its name is Crusher. It is a relic from the War of Heroes."

The woman seemed to make the connection quickly. "Annette?"

Gregory paused. "Yes, I am her uncle."

The woman seemed surprised but also seemed to lose interest in the weapon. "Do you have Crest?"

Gregory and Madeline both shook their heads.

"My brother possesses a Crest." Gregory said at last. "But no, I do not."

The woman paused. "Gustave Dominic?"

Madeline stiffened, and the woman seemed to realize her mistake.

"I am sorry. I want not hurt your feelings." The woman corrected quickly.

"May I ask you about Annette?" Madeline asked after a moment.

The woman nodded in response.

"Is she doing well?"

Petra nodded. "She is healthy."

"Does she still have her doll?" Madeline asked.

Petra blinked blankly at the question.

Gregory coughed weakly as he translated the question to the main tongue of Brigid.

Petra stared at the man in surprise before she answered quickly.

"She still has the doll." Gregory confirmed to Madeline.

A single tear fell from the face of the other woman.

"How did you know Brigid?" Petra asked.

Gregory paused even as he felt the gaze of Madeline on him.

"I met a young woman once. I gained an interest in learning the language after meeting her."

"Brigid?" Petra asked.

Gregory shook his head. "I don't know, but I later realized that she was speaking one of the main languages of Brigid."

Madeline seemed surprised. "When was this?"

Gregory shook his head. "It's was when Annette was young. The time Archbishop Rhea visited us."

Madeline shook her head regardless.

"Do you remember when there was a poacher in the Coldstream Forest?" Gregory asked his sister in law.

Madeline frowned. "The one from the Empire?"

"Yes, that particular poacher."

"What does that have to do with Brigid?" Madeline asked.

"At the time, I wrote off the poacher as dead, turned in a bow as proof of the deed."

"But you didn't kill him." Madeline finished.

"Her." Gregory corrected. "I slipped her into a cart to Garreg Mach."

"Why?" Madeline asked.

Gregory shook his head. "She was just a child at the time. It would have been unbecoming of me to turn her in. She would have been killed for the poaching."

Madeline frowned. "A child?"

"She was starving." Gregory explained weakly. "I offered her a piece of bread for the bow, and she more or less threw her bow at me in exchange."

"Who was she?' Madeline asked.

"I don't know." Gregory admitted. "I didn't even get her name."

Petra opened her mouth as the carriage descended into silence, but closed her mouth a moment later.

* * *

"Sleep well?" Byleth asked Edelgard as the two of them laid in bed.

Edelgard frowned as she opened her eyes. "How did you know I was awake?"

"Your eyes were twitching." Byleth explained.

Edelgard let out an annoyed sigh in response, but gave her body pillow a slight smile regardless.

"What time is it?" Edelgard asked.

"Seems like an early morning." Byleth replied.

Edelgard sighed as she rose from the large bed they shared, followed by Byleth as they quickly passed their scattered clothes.

"Will you be dressed like an emperor today or just El?" Byleth asked as they opened the window, smiling as bright sunlight illuminated Edelgard.

"Oh no." Edelgard gasped.

"What's wrong?" Byleth asked.

"We're late." Edelgard said, rushing from his embrace.

Byleth stood and looked at the town before them for a moment before something inside him snapped.

A moment later, he was alongside Edelgard, frantically tearing through his packed luggage for an outfit suitable for the midday heat.

He started with a white starched shirt, a gift from Hubert when he had arrived in Enbarr after the war, and followed up hastily with dark trousers and his boots.

"Do I look presentable?" Edelgard asked, wearing a simple gray dress and white shoes.

Byleth responded with a nod and the two of them hurried out, nearly knocking over Hubert in the process.

"Good morning, Lady Edelgard, Professor." Hubert said quietly, his eyes unwilling to meet theirs.

"We overslept." Edelgard said hastily. "We should move as soon as possible."

"Correct." Hubert said. "That being said, we are held up."

Edelgard and Byleth both paused at the words.

"Why is that?" Edelgard asked.

"Remember the order to dismiss the militia?" Hubert asked.

Edelgard paused and nodded. "Yes, what of it?"

"Three regiments worth of decommissioned soldiers and their personal effects have clogged up the road moving forward." Hubert said. "There are large scale celebrations in the street."

"So we aren't going anywhere." Byleth concluded.

Hubert paused. "We do have a solution in hand, but it'll be very uncomfortable."

"Go on." Byleth said, his attention drawn.

"We could cross through the Morganite Ravine." Hubert said, watching the reactions of the other two carefully. "It would slow our move to Garreg Mach, but we could avoid the demobilizing soldiers that way."

Edelgard grimaced. "The Morganite Ravine is treacherous."

Byleth frowned. "How dangerous is it?"

"Morganite is a cheap imitation of diamond." Hubert said. "The Ravine has a number of mines, but the settlements there are small and few in between."

"Good." Byleth said. "We can avoid detection then."

"It's settled then." Hubert said with a nod. "How do you propose we leave the town as it is?"

"Manuela and Hanneman are the members of our group least likely to cause a commotion." Byleth reasoned. "Have them ride with our carriage drivers until we can leave town safely. "

Hubert nodded as he turned away to tell the other members of the strike force. "A sound plan."

"Let's grab some breakfast while we still can." Byleth whispered to Edelgard as they two of them followed Hubert.

* * *

Ashe nodded quietly when he dismounted his horse, giving a slight nod of greeting to Douglas before he turned to Ingrid.

"I trust you are better." Ashe said quietly.

Ingrid nodded as she glanced at the other general of the group. "Did you find anything from the investigation?"

Ashe paused for a moment before he pulled something from the folds of his uniform. "I'm unsure of what this is." He admitted finally.

Ingrid frowned at the strip of dark cloth before turning the strip over, her face darkening at the pale eye that consisted of the insignia.

"What is it?" Ingrid asked.

"I don't know." Ashe replied. "I was hoping our prisoner would be willing to talk to us."

"Our prisoner is asleep." Douglas said quickly.

"Alright then." Ashe said. "Load her up onto a horse and we'll head back to Fhirdiad. We can talk there."

* * *

Caspar glared at the three men desperately holding him back.

"I'm going to go in there and stop this riot." Caspar said angrily.

"Sir." The senior member of the squad stammered. "When we asked for your help, we didn't want a full on brawl with civilians."

Caspar gave the man a dirty look before he turned around. "A brawl is what you're going to get. I'm not going to stand by while this injustice unfolds."

Before any of the three soldiers could offer a protest, Caspar broke free, storming forward into the fight with all the subtlety of a raging demonic beast.

"You!" Caspar roared. "Stop right there!"

At his words, the raging mob broke off for a second at the man storming before them.

Then one of the men rushed forward, fists raised for a fight.

In a swift move, Caspar took the punch full on, the blow bouncing off harmlessly against his chest.

The man seemed stunned by the punch, staggering back as Caspar replied with a vicious punch to the stomach, the blow knocking the man back, his jaw hanging open as he gasped for breath.

Then Caspar silenced the man with an uppercut, his unfortunate victim's head snapping back as the full blow was eaten by his chin.

"SILENCE!" Caspar roared at the rioting crowd, a half dozen screaming figures having yet to notice his presence.

But even the booming shout did nothing, and Caspar growled as he brought his foot down on his prone victim, his boot finding an exposed wrist.

The man screamed in agony, the wail loud enough to even make the three soldiers accompanying Caspar wince and take a small step back.

But the scream worked, and a dozen faces turned to Caspar, the din having expired immediately.

"What in the world is going on?" Caspar raged as he stared down the crowd of shocked and stunned faces, his eyes murderous.

"I was going to ask the same thing." Felix snarled as he stalked forward, two dozen armed soldiers behind him.

"There was a riot." One of the three soldiers explained weakly. "A Duscar woman had a loaf of bread stolen from her."

"Lie!" A voice in the crowd shouted. "She stole the bread!"

"Is this true?" An older soldier asked the man who had first spoken up.

"Who is the victim again?" A voice asked.

"Quartermaster Anna." Felix acknowledged as he turned to the woman.

A single boy seemed to step away, his change in position allowing the crowd to notice the woman half buried in mud.

"Guards." Felix barked. "Seize the rioters. Half rations for those involved with the riot."

"You heard the man." The older soldier snapped.

"I won't stand for this!" A voice shouted from the crowd. "You animal! You would side with the Duscar? The same Duscar who murdered King Lambert?"

"Seize him too." Felix muttered as Caspar moved toward the half buried woman.

When the first woman refused to budge from her position, Caspar struck with a vicious right hook, his blow sending his target sprawling to the ground.

The act sent the crowd into a frenzy once more as soldiers hastily moved forward, knocking back assailants with their shields and the blunt ends of their spears.

But Caspar stood before the pack by no less than three paces, calmly breaking any rioter unfortunate enough to get between him and the downed Duscarian woman.

The first man to oppose him was tall and blonde, his ragged clothes once made of fine cloth, his flabby arms indicating that he was likely a merchant in a past life.

Caspar treated him with a punch to the groin, the blow leaving the man winded as Caspar followed by dashing his forehead against the man's face, the man recoiling back with a visibly shattered nose.

But even as Caspar took his next step, the crowd had lost all cohesion. Men and women rallied against individual soldiers, easily being thrown back and subsequently trampled into the mud.

"Push forward!" Felix barked. "This riot ends right here, right now."

At the words of their general, the scattered members of the battalion pushed forward, a solid wall against the mass of flesh.

But none of them could reach Caspar, now in the thick of the fight.

"By the Emperor!" One of the soldiers holding the shield wall cried as Caspar dispatched a boy with a downward strike, the flailing body knocked back up when his chin met Caspar's knee.

"Am I glad I'm not fighting him." One of the other guards winced as their pushed their wall forward, forcing the disoriented rioters back.

"What did we come back to?" Ingrid groaned from behind Felix.

"Looks like a riot." Ashe said with a slight sigh.

"You two!" Felix snapped. "Help us-wait, when did you get here?"

"The healers in the medical tent directed us here." Ashe explained. "Said that there was trouble brewing here."

Felix glared at Ingrid. "You're hurt."

Ashe sighed. "Look, I tried to get her to see medical help, but she refused."

"I can get help once this mess is cleaned up." Ingrid shot back. "It is our duty regardless."

"General Fraildarius! General Bergliez has returned!"

The three assembled generals turned to find Caspar storm past the shield wall, a woman carried over his arm.

"She needs medical help." Caspar said weakly.

"I'll go." Ashe said quickly. "It looks like this riot is under control."

"Quartermaster Anna." Felix snapped.

"Use that tone against me one more time and I'll demand the rest of your debts right now." Anna shot back.

Felix grimaced before he continued in a slightly less aggressive tone. "You have command here. I must see to it that the injured are looked after."

"For the last time!" Ingrid protested. "I'm fine!"

Felix and Ashe shared a glance as Caspar loaded the unconscious woman onto Ashe's mount.

"Ashe, you mind if I borrow your horse?" Caspar asked.

"Huh?" Ashe asked. "Of course not. Go ahead."

"Thanks- wait." Caspar said, turning around suddenly. "When did you two get back?"

"Just go." Felix sighed as he turned back to Ingrid, waving away Caspar.

"We found something." Ingrid said as they stepped into the shade of a nearby tent, emptied over the course of the riot.

"What is it?" Felix asked.

"We took a prisoner." Ashe said.

"Where were they from?" Felix asked.

"We have a unit insignia." Ingrid said. "I'm not sure if you know it."

Felix paused as he glanced at the eye on the strip of cloth.

"You know it." Ingrid said.

"We saw it on the uniforms of the soldiers massacred by the dragon." Felix said finally.

Ingrid swallowed at the mention of the dragon, but otherwise remained impassive.

"Are you alright?" Felix asked Ingrid.

"My injuries aren't serious." Ingrid said with a wave of the hand. "Douglas patched up a number of my wounds before we left."

Felix nodded. "Regardless, we need to see a proper doctor."

"Once he says I'm fine, can we get back to the topic at hand?" Ingrid asked, finally relenting despite her annoyance.

Felix nodded as he turned for the direction of the medical tents. "There is much we need to do."

* * *

Spite sighed as he stepped from his personal shower, wiping his hand against his freshly trimmed face, his face a mask of disgust as he toyed with his radio.

"Seems like Mortis is busy travelling." Spite muttered.

"Boss?" Odesse asked from the doorway.

Spite glanced at the lesser mage in annoyance before he turned to the younger man. "Yes?"

"A mage has claimed that they found the killer while you were gone."

"Has anyone been through my office while you were here?" Spite asked in turn, rising from his desk.

"I had the wing sealed." Odesse explained. "Nobody had the key except for me."

Spite nodded as he shrugged on his jacket, pausing to grab the Staff of Circe. "Very well then. Let us go."

"Who do you think did it?" Odesse asked as they crossed the first of many catwalks.

"It doesn't matter." Spite replied. "The real killer has yet to expose himself."

"Then how do you propose you'll find him?"

"Torture and deception." Spite said with a shrug. "Probably the former first."

Odesse swallowed hard as he hurried to open a door for his superior.

"Stop that." Spite snapped. "I'm more than capable of opening a door myself."

Odesse swallowed as he backed off a step, allowing his superior officer to pass.

"What will you do with them then?" Odesse asked.

"A public execution." Spite said with a shrug. "Then back to business."

Odesse paused. "I guess it's a hard job that you have."

"It is a tiring job, yes." Spite said. "Receiving the position is often the easy part. Holding onto it is the most difficult aspect."

Odesse nodded as the two men descended a flight of stairs. "How did you get the job?"

Spite shrugged as he turned down another catwalk. "My predecessor left for field work. The job was vacant."

"And how did he get his job?" Odesse asked.

"The last overlord to seize the job by force was the previous Periander, who would rise to Agastya later on in his life." Spite said with a growl of annoyance. "His successor was Thales, who was in turn succeeded by Solon."

"And you took over after that." Odesse finished.

Spite nodded as he threw open the doors to the mess hall, taking a moment to acknowledge the rest of the assembled army.

"Lord Spite." A man said from the centre.

Spite looked upon the man before he frowned. "It's Periander, petty mage."

The man paused before he continued. "Right. We have found the guilty party."

"Good." Spite said calmly. "Show me. I will separate his head from his shoulders."

The man took a slight step back as Spite turned to him.

"I did not come here to waste time and wait." Spite snarled. "Show me the murderer so I can tear his head from his shoulders."

The man swallowed before he pointed to Spite.

"You are the murderer we have been looking for."

"Alright." Spite said with a roll of his eyes and a halfhearted chuckle. "What is your proof?"

The man blinked. "You killed him for flirting with your mistress."

Someone in the crowd began to laugh hysterically, the silence broken.

The mage turned to the interruption, murder on his face.

A second man began to laugh, followed by a half dozen more.

Spite looked at the mage with a strange look on his face. "I don't have a mistress."

"Private Ryan was recorded in saying he had an interest in your mistress."

"She's my apprentice." Spite corrected with annoyance in his voice. "How many times do I have to make that fact clear?"

The man grimaced as he looked away. "But you still killed him for flirting with your apprentice."

"Why would I do that?" Spite asked calmly as he stepped forward.

"You killed a certain Wilhelm before." The man said. "Tortured him to death over many hours."

"Correct." Spite said with a slow grin spreading over his features. "Wilhelm died a long and slow death. By the end, he had lost his voice from screaming."

"Seize him!" The mage shouted. "He's confessed to murder!"

The crowd stood still.

Spite, still wearing a lunatic's grin, merely chuckled. "Are you done?"

The man froze as he seemed to realize his mistake.

"Guards. Seize this prankster." Spite barked. "He'll be cleaning your latrines for the rest of his life."

"You can't!" The man shouted as two men stepped forward.

"I most certainly can." Spite said as he nodded to the men behind the mage.

At the first sign of a hand on his shoulder, the mage threw off the man with a spin of the shoulder, tossing a ball of fire at Spite in the process.

The ball struck Spite square in the chest, though the crimson haired man only smiled at the provocation.

"Good." Spite said. "Creating a false alarm is only grounds for light punishment. Odesse?"

"Yes sir?" The lesser mage stammered.

"Remind me the punishment for assaulting a peer?"

"A double reprimand, sir," Odesse offered. "And if he was to assault an officer, then it's a summary execution."

"And who would decide the execution?" Spite asked.

"One of the Septet." Odesse said. "Namely, Thales, Solon, Bias, Pittacus, Periander, Chilon, or Myson."

"And of the six standing members, who is the only one present in Shambhala?"

"You sir." Odesse stammered.

"Very good Odesse." Spite said as he turned back to the restrained mage.

"Break his arms." Spite said.

"Upper or lower?" The leftmost soldier asked.

"Both if you wish. That being said, I alone hold the pleasure of ending his life."

"Not a problem." The man said as multiple soldiers turned on the mage, each excited to torture the unfortunate mage.

Spite turned his back on the crowd as he turned back to his office, shutting the doors behind him to block out the condemned man's screams.

"May I ask you something?" Odesse asked.

Spite raised an eyebrow. "Very well then."

"Was it true that you had this Wilhelm tortured to death?"

"No." Spite replied. "I personally tortured him to death. Nobody else had the pleasure to act on it."

"You weren't punished for it?"

"Wilhelm had ambitions to become one of the Septet." Spite explained. "He also had a long history of annoying Bias, Pittacus, and any woman unfortunate to be in Shambhala at the same time as him."

"Did he harass Mortis?"

"No." Spite replied. "He struck her."

Odesse swallowed. "So how did that end?"

"Rather well for me." Spite explained. "Solon and Thales were both away during the incident, and Bias was more than content to make a complaint dated to the date before to justify the execution."

Odesse raised an eyebrow.

"Don't give me that look." Spite said with a scoff. "It was an act of mutual interest for us. I got to make an example of that worm, and Bias made sure her blood brother made the next Chilon."

Odesse winced. "I only heard bits and pieces of the story back in Shangri-la. There was a lot of whispers, but no concrete explanation."

"That's because neither of us bothered to tell Shangri-la the full story" Spite said with a shrug. "Even if we did send over the full story, Patricia wouldn't have told you the truth anyways."

* * *

**AN:** Surprises surprises. Both in the chapter and in the near future.

As always. Read, Review, Follow, Favourite. etc.

Seriously, Review. If there was anything you wanted to say, say it.

Still looking for a beta.

**Next time:**

Thales blows.

Mortis talks to Spite.

Bow of blood and fire.

The hardest words.

Nature of the Beast.

A woman scorned.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: The Ancient Evil Survives

* * *

"Lovely day we are having." Yurius greeted their peers as he stepped up from his chair.

"Good morning." Lorenz commented. "We are within reach of the Great Bridge of Myrddin."

Yurius nodded as Lorenz paused. "We were also able to secure the services of two additional carriages."

"That is good news." Yurius said as he glanced over at his partner. "Are you saying we now have our own carriage?"

"That's correct." Lorenz replied. "Maya will be in the carriage with Ignatz and Evi, if you don't mind your companion riding with them."

"That's fine." Mortis said firmly. "And I presume you'll ride out with Leonie?"

Lorenz shook his head. "No need. The road to Myrddin is well guarded. I will go with Leonie to watch her over the course of her hangover."

Mortis and Yurius exchanged a glance before the latter nodded. "Very well then."

"Once we get to Myrddin, I can see to try to repay the debt we owe you."

Mortis nodded. "We will be together until at least Garreg Mach, but that act would be appreciated."

"Can you be ready to leave in an hour?" Lorenz asked carefully.

"We can leave right now, should you choose." Mortis replied.

Lorenz nodded. "We'll move out as soon as possible."

* * *

Byleth winced as the carriage bumped along the road, the reinforced wheels making a great racket as they fought with the rough stones below.

"This was a bad idea then?" Dorothea asked weakly next to him.

"Yes." Byleth said grimly. "This was a bad idea. The road here will probably put us hours behind."

"I'm glad I wasn't the only one to think that." Monica said.

"Morganite Ravine." Byleth muttered. "I thought that the morganite here would have allowed for decent enough roads."

"I agree." Dorothea said as she looked out the window. "I thought the morganite would have allowed for better roads."

"There are better roads." Monica said halfheartedly.

"Where?" Dorothea asked.

"Erm. Ah. Right." Monica backpedaled, seemingly realizing that she had said something out of line. "Hawthorne would be annoyed if his roads were compromised, so please don't ask me."

"Where?" Byleth and Dorothea both asked.

"Nevermind." Monica said as she looked away. "I shouldn't tell."

A moment passed in the carriage before Monica broke.

"Alright. Fine." Monica said, holding her hands up in surrender. "There's a smuggler route that cuts through the mountains here."

"Why wasn't this mentioned?" Dorothea asked.

"Hubert vetoed the idea." Byleth replied. "Said the roads lead to a dead end."

"Ah." Dorothea said, pausing before she turned to Monica. "Why does Hawthorne need a properly maintained road that leads to a dead end?"

Monica shut up, her eyes darting around the carriage.

"Monica." Dorothea said in a sweet tone that even made Byleth flinch. "Tell us what Hawthorne needs that road for or I'll tell them about your boyfriend."

Monica's eyes widened as her jaw fell. "You promised that you wouldn't tell!"

"This is important." Dorothea said firmly. "Now tell me."

Monica swallowed. "There's an old mine somewhere at the end of that road he hid things in."

Byleth frowned. "What sort of things?"

Monica shook her head. "I was only there once, I don't remember."

"We can make a guess." Dorothea said, smiling sweetly at Monica.

"Really?" Bernadetta asked.

"I don't-" Byleth started.

"I remember now." Monica blurted out, her bluff called.

"What was it?" Dorothea asked, a thin smile on her lips.

"The shipment I saw consisted of paintings. Probably stolen from a noble house that was purged."

Dorothea gave the woman a strange look. "Why would Hawthorne go through so much trouble over a few paintings?"

"Artwork can be valuable." Byleth pointed out. "Hawthorne is clearly a very rich man."

Dorothea nodded. "Monica, do you know if he hides anything else in those mines?"

Monica shook her head, this time honest defeat in her eyes. "I was only there once."

Dorothea nodded as she leaned back into her chair. "I wonder what Edie and Hubie are doing?"

* * *

"I know you." Sylvain spoke as his eyes focused on the hard looking man standing before him.

"Do you now?" The man asked. "I'm Douglas. I act as Ashe's second in command."

Sylvain paused as the man handed something to him.

"What is this?" He asked weakly.

"Just tea." The man said as Sylvain eased himself up onto the bed.

Sylvain took a small sip of the simple blend. "It's well brewed."

Douglas nodded. "Is there anything you want to eat?"

"Smoked meat." Sylvain laughed.

Douglas cracked a faint smile before he turned around. "We don't have any in camp."

"I know." Sylvain said. "I just like the stuff."

"I know." Douglas replied. "I've been told about your tastes."

"And who told you that?" Sylvain asked.

"Apart from working for Ashe, do you know me from anywhere else?" Douglas asked as he took back his canteen, their eyes meeting carefully.

Sylvain blinked at the question. "No. I er- wait, where's my lance?"

"The Lance of Ruin is under your bed." Douglas said. "Nobody has touched it since it fell there."

"Yeah, I'm glad people know not to touch it." Sylvain said. "Nobody wants to become Miklan."

It was when the name of his brother left his lips than Sylvain looked up, suddenly wary of the man beside him.

"Oh." Douglas said, his face unconcerned. "You remembered."

"You were part of Miklan's warband." Sylvain stated, watching Douglas with narrowed eyes.

"Correct." Douglas said. "Good memory. It's been over five years now."

"Why are you here?" Sylvain asked, inching closer to the edge of the bed.

"Ashe wanted me to guard you."

"Why you?" Sylvain asked, his voice hard.

"Because Ashe trusts me to do my work here."

"Does he know what you did before?" Sylvain asked.

"Of course." Douglas replied. "He personally recruited me after all."

Sylvain swallowed. "I want a replacement."

Douglas shrugged. "Of course. That can be arraigned. Will that be all?"

Sylvain paused before he closed his eyes as Douglas watched him.

"I want to know about Miklan." Sylvain admitted, looking at the former bandit next to him.

"What is there to talk about?" Douglas asked. "We found his funeral pyre after the battle."

"What was he like?" Sylvain asked. "When he was your leader?"

"He was a good boss." Douglas replied. "The best I had before joining the Imperial Army."

Sylvain paused at the words, letting out a slow breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Granted, he had his darkness like everyone else." Douglas admitted after a long moment.

"What did he do?"

"He once threw a challenger to his death out of a window. Enjoyed it too."

Sylvain raised an eyebrow. "And you said he was a good boss?"

"He kept us fed. Gave us a purpose in life for once. He would have been a good Ashen Wolf." Douglas scoffed. "Even now, I think of his as an intelligent leader."

Sylvain scoffed. "Father practically disowned him the moment he found that I had a crest."

"I know." Douglas replied. "He'd fantasise for hours about how he would kill your father if he ever got his hands on him."

Sylvain swallowed. "He did that?"

"A lot of threats. The only really constant one was flaying. Breaking fingers one by one was also a fairly common threat."

Sylvain held a hand up for the man to stop.

"We all have our darkness." Douglas said as he noticed the other man's hands. "Miklan simply hated your father and you more than anything else in the world."

"He changed." Sylvain said quietly. "After-"

"Glenn." Douglas finished. "I know that too. To watch his father cry over the son of a stranger while his own flesh and blood was being neglected made him snap."

"He told you about that?" Sylvain asked, his eyes narrowed.

"He mentioned it in passing one day. I simply never forgot those words." Douglas replied.

"What's my darkness then?" Sylvain asked.

"I don't know. I haven't been around you enough to know." Douglas replied.

"What about Ashe then?" Sylvain asked. "You being his second in command and all."

"When it comes to Ashe, it boils down to Christopher and Lonato."

Sylvain swallowed. "I heard that he watched Catherine kill Lonato from the professor."

Douglas shrugged. "I've seen some things that I'm not going to discuss, but yes, he did watch Catherine strike down Lonato."

"Why aren't you going to tell me?" Sylvain asked, turning his gaze to the other man again.

"Because it's not my place to judge him or to talk about his problems. That particular demon remains his and his alone to face."

"And I appreciate that." Ashe said, causing Douglas spun around.

Ashe, Felix, and Ingrid were behind him.

* * *

"Can we go now?" Felix asked. "The idiot is right there. He's fine."

"What was it about Miklan and Glenn?" Ingrid asked as she stormed toward Douglas, the man taking a quick step back into the tent.

"Ingrid, please." Ashe pleaded. "Could this wait? We need to have you seen by a doctor."

"What was it about Glenn and Miklan?" Ingrid asked again.

Douglas exchanged a glance with Ashe, who nodded his approval.

"Miklan was furious that Lord Gautier cared more for the dead son of a stranger rather than him." Douglas explained. "It caused him to start to try to kill Sylvain."

"Sounds like Miklan." Felix said. "Always angry about these things."

"Was he friends with your brother?" Douglas asked.

Felix scoffed. "A training partner, nothing more."

"I saw him floor Glenn once." Ingrid admitted after a moment of silence. "I had snuck into the training grounds to watch."

"Miklan was a dirty fighter from the very beginning." Felix said as he crossed his arms. "But yes, just a training partner, nothing more. Glenn respected him though. Said that he was being wasted just for not having a Crest."

"Surprised he never served with the Ashen Wolves though." Ashe said finally. "He sounds like he would fit right in."

"We didn't know the Wolves existed until Conand Tower." Douglas admitted after a minute. "Not until they showed up on our doorstep."

"What are you doing?" A furious voice behind them snapped. "There's a patient that needs looking after!"

"I'm fine!" Sylvain shouted. "I'm perfectly fine!"

"Not until I say so!" The woman shouted back.

"A friend of ours needs a check up." Felix said quickly.

"And who is that?" The tiny healer growled.

"I'm fine." Ingrid protested. "I had my wounds bandaged already."

"Oh." The healer said. "You were the one snatched by that dragon."

"I'm fine." Ingrid repeated again, glaring as the healer pushed away Ashe and Felix.

"I get to make that call." The woman said firmly. "Now sit down on that bed."

Ingrid made a move to storm out of the tent, but froze under the glare of the woman.

"Now, you three. Scam." The woman said as she turned to the three men standing at the entrance to the tent.

"Right." Ashe said as he hurried away. "We'll be at the main command tent if anyone needs us."

Ingrid tried to voice a protest before she felt a hand on her shoulder, forcing her in place.

"General Galatea." The doctor said in a sickly sweet voice. "Why don't you sit down?"

* * *

Mortis waited until the trip was underway before she turned and cracked open the trunk that held the antique radio set.

"Spite's probably worried sick." Yurius observed.

"He's not that kind of person." Mortis replied as she turned the machine on, placing the headset over her ears.

"You just told me yesterday he cares about you."

"I'm not Kronya. He doesn't care about me that much." Mortis said with a roll of her eyes. "He's not going to lose sleep if we went a few days without contact."

"Mortis?" Spite's voice asked through the headset.

"Can you hear me?" Mortis asked as Yurius fell silent.

"I can." The overlord of Shambhala replied. "I apologize for being out of contact."

"What happened?" Mortis asked.

"A group of deserters managed to escape Shambhala. I had to personally hunt them down."

"Alright. Deserters." Mortis said. "Glad to hear that it's dealt with."

"Have you managed to get back onto the road?" Spite asked.

"We're about a half day away from Myrddin." Mortis replied. "We managed to find another group that's travelling to Garreg Mach."

"Very good." Spite said, his tone impressed. "Who are you travelling with?"

Mortis paused. "We are travelling with three members of the Black Eagle Strike Force."

"Which ones?" Spite asked, concern in his voice. "The members of that task force range from immensely dangerous to close to harmless."

"Ignatz Victor."

"Useless worm." Spite muttered. "Our files had him marked for an early grave, but he's not a threat by any stretch of the imagination even if he did survive the war."

"Leonie Pinelli."

"A hack job mercenary." Spite said with a dismissive laugh. "And the last one?"

"Lorenz Hellman Gloucester."

Spite snorted. "Useless twit. Our intelligence indicates that he was recruited for political purposes alone. His father is supposed to be of great influence in the Alliance."

"So nothing of interest to you then." Mortis said.

"No." Spite replied. "Unless they happen to be very close to the Emperor, the Fell Star, or Hubert von Vesta, they should not prove to be any trouble to your operation. And from our intelligence, they aren't particularly close to that particular trifecta."

"They'll inevitably make a report to their superiors." Mortis argued.

"They will. Which is why I suggest that you be out of reach for the rest of their strike force when they make that report." Spite said. "In the event you require the services of Shangri-la, you should outrank Patricia regardless. Your Athame alone will ensure that."

"Are there any other figures I should be aware of?" Mortis asked.

"Just the standard number." Spite said in a bored tone. "Ashen Wolves, Nabateans, Lysithea von Ordelia."

"Who is the last one?" Mortis asked. "Name seems vaguely familiar."

"The survivor of the Ordelia incident." Spite explained. "Our intelligence suggests that she was present at Garreg Mach during the year of the Flame Emperor."

Mortis nodded as she turned to Yurius. "You want to say anything?"

Yurius paused before he pulled on the headset. "Spite?"

"Hello Yurius." Spite replied evenly. "I trust that you have been well?"

"Did you catch the guy who killed Ryan?"

Spite paused at the question. "No. I've caught one person involved with it, but the rest of them have yet to make a move."

"I see." Yurius said as he glanced at his partner. "May I ask a stupid question?"

"You have my attention." Spite replied, amusement evident in his voice.

"If I run into, well-"

"Monica von Ochs?" Spite asked calmly, the amusement in his voice dead.

"I understand." Yurius said quietly.

"If she is willing to serve Shambhala, then she will become a useful asset in the future." Spite explained. "That being said, she's also a very dangerous asset, particularly if she has been in contact with the Black Eagle Strike Force since Operation Dancer."

Yurius nodded. "That's all I wanted to know."

"Very well then." Spite said. "Ask Mortis if she has anything else to say."

Yurius glanced at the form of his partner, now visibly nervous.

"Mortis, are you alright?" Yurius asked.

Mortis glanced back at Yurius before she shook her head, though he could see something flicker in her eyes.

"Are either of you two ill?" Spite asked.

A question flickered through the head of Yurius, and he took a moment to compose his thoughts.

"Was Pinelli present for the final act of Operation Dancer?"

"Pardon?" Spite asked as Mortis gave Yurius a murderous glance, her hands clenched tightly into fists.

"Leonie Pinelli." Yurius repeated. "Was she present for the final stage of Operation Dancer?"

Spite paused at the question, perhaps surprised at the blunt nature of the question.

"Yes." The overlord of Shambhala finally said. "Our archives indicate that she had been transferred into the class taught by the Fell Star shortly before the final battle of the infiltration campaign."

Mortis glared at Yurius again before she gestured for control of the headset.

"Spite?" Mortis asked softly into the headset.

"You sound like you have something you want to get off your chest." Spite observed. "You have a tendency to dance around the question when you are uncomfortable with something,"

"I do." Mortis confessed, the pressure building in her chest growing heavier.

"Does this have anything to do with that damnable mercenary?" Spite asked.

"She said-no,she claimed that she was there when Kronya was killed." Mortis said, quietly waiting for Spite to speak.

"And your point is?" Spite asked, his voice neutral as he spoke. "Unless she personally claimed the kill, I have nothing against her. She will die as an enemy of Shambhala. Nothing more, nothing less."

"I understand." Mortis said finally. "That is all I have to say."

"Very well then." Spite said. "I'll leave you to your work. Good hunting."

Mortis glared at Yurius as she placed the precious headset down.

"Why were you asking him about Pinelli?" Mortis asked as she undid the machine, returning it to their trunk.

"I want to know if the story was real or not." Yurius protested.

"Where would a mindless savage like that find the name of Zahras?" Mortis scoffed.

"Do you believe her?"

"Yes." Mortis said in turn. "I wish I didn't, but I believe what she said. Solon killed Kronya to open a gate into Zahras."

"Damn." Yurius muttered as their carriage turned a corner, slowing to a crawl.

"Odd." Mortis observed as she leaned back into her seat.

"What happened?" Yurius asked.

"We are stopping."

The door to the carriage swung open as Ignatz popped through the door.

"Something wrong?" Yurius asked.

"Leonie is sick at the moment." Ignatz explained sheepishly. "She's vomiting into the river as we speak."

Yurius and Mortis both grimaced at the words.

"Guess we wait then." Mortis said as she leaned back into her seat. "Just our luck it seems."

* * *

"This site will do." Thales announced as he paused in the middle of a large room.

"Where are we?" Chilon asked, his eyes darting about in the darkness.

"This was once a military outpost that stood in between Old Agartha and Shangri-la." Myson replied.

"Correct." Thales said. "Very good."

"Why are we here?" Chilon asked.

"Two birds with one stone." Thales replied as he reached into the folds of his cloak.

"What is that?" Chilon asked as he saw the horn within the hand of Thales.

"A gift from the previous Periander, made many decades ago." Thales explained, examining the simple tool.

"Spite?" Myson asked.

"His predecessor." Thales replied, examining the tool carefully. "A relic made for the dead of Zaharas."

"What does it do?" Myson asked, his eyes watching the small horn with suspicion.

Thales smiled, a thin, lifeless line against his skin.

Then the horn sounded.

* * *

"I apologize for my actions last night." Hubert said, finally breaking the silence in the carriage.

"There is no need for that." Edelgard said. "I should apologize for startling you."

Hubert swallowed. "Yes, let's move on from that incident."

"Hubert?" Edelgard asked after a moment.

"Yes Lady Edelgard?" Hubert asked.

"I have my troubles."

"I will always listen." Hubert replied quickly, stopping as Edelgard raised a hand.

"I feel guilt." Edelgard said.

Hubert swallowed. "I-"

"I've never told you this, but I met your associate Mortis once after that last meeting."

"What?" Hubert asked, his face stunned.

"It was with Jeritza present in the dungeons." Edelgard explained. "The handover of Kronya to the care of Jeritza."

"But I was present there-" Hubert replied, his face stunned at the words.

"She didn't say anything, but she warned me to watch over Kronya."

"She was the guard along with Thales?" Hubert asked.

"The smaller one." Edelgard replied. "The one who handed me the Flame Emperor's cloak back.

Hubert frowned. "She hid a letter in there?"

"It was a simple note, not a full letter." Edelgard replied. "It was hidden in between two layers of cloth. It fell out when I took it off after the handover."

"What did it say?" Hubert asked, his visible eye narrowing.

"Watch over Kronya." Edelgard replied. "Just those three words."

"Watch over Kronya." Hubert said. "Why?"

"I don't know." Edelgard said quietly, her eyes facing downward.

"Wait." Hubert said quietly, his eyes turning to Edelgard, having connected the dots. "You blame yourself for Jeralt's death?"

"Even if I hadn't been warned, I hated that the Professor's father had been murdered on my watch." Edelgard admitted. "And yet I had been warned well ahead of time."

Hubert grimaced, his lips tight. "I must remind you that none of us ever knew that Solon would betray us like that. It was, and will never be, your fault."

"And yet I feel a great guilt." Edelgard said. "To have a hand in killing Jeralt Eisner. To be… manipulated like a puppet on a string."

"How long has this gone on?" Hubert asked, his face turning to rare concern.

"I had a nightmare the day when we were supposed to leave Enbarr."

Hubert didn't reply, but his attention was rapt.

"The Professor accused me of killing his father in the dream."

Hubert grimaced at the words.

"It was just a dream." Hubert offered finally.

"And whenever I think of the night under the stars I spent with the Professor, in a place where I saw my mother after escaping Enbarr, I feel-"

Hubert looked away, his lips drawn in a thin line.

"Guilt." Hubert said finally, the word silencing the carriage once more.

"Guilt that I took his father away from him. Guilt that I chose to deceive him for so long."

"You didn't kill Jeralt Eisner.." Hubert replied instantly. "Kronya and Solon did. And Thales planned it all. And that's why we'll kill him."

"And yet I was warned well ahead of time to watch Kronya." Edelgard said. "And when she cut down Jeralt, all I could do was stand frozen."

Hubert sat silently for a long minute. "What do you intend to do?"

"I will avenge Jeralt." Edelgard admitted finally. "For all the victims in this war, I will bring down Shambhala. And maybe then…"

Hubert nodded as he looked out of the window. "And we will walk that path with you. Our oath hasn't ended yet."

* * *

"General Ubert?" The young woman before him asked.

Ashe turned quickly, Douglas and Felix also stopping to watch the young woman.

"Yes?" Ashe asked, glancing around the camp.

"I would like to thank you." The woman said quietly.

Ashe paused as he turned to look at the young woman. "Why?"

"You avenged my mother."

Ashe pressed his lips together as he crouched down to face the girl at an equal height. "I don't understand."

"My mother was at the central hospital when that witch burned it down."

"Witch?" Felix asked, his face confused.

"Catherine." Douglas spat with barely hidden contempt in his voice.

"I-" Ashe started, his face gaunt.

"We watched you." The girl continued. "Thank you."

"We?" Douglas asked, his voice betraying a note of panic, suddenly wary of the crowd around them.

"We watched from a distance, but we saw you take her head."

"Hold on, what are you going on about?" Felix asked, his gaze turning from the three before him.

"We're going." Douglas said quickly, grabbing Ashe by the collar, pulling the younger man to his feet as he barrelled through the crowd.

The crowd around them had grown, even as Ashe hastily rose to his feet.

"It's the avenger." One man whispered.

"I didn't see him that night, but he's awfully young." A second voice opinionated.

"Wasn't he the son of Lonato?" A third voice asked out loud.

"Does it matter? He avenged the soul of Fhirdiad!"

Douglas swore as he seized the arm of his lord, dragging him through the crowd, Felix following, his face bewildered by the scene.

But the cheers following them continued, the crowd rapidly swelling in size even as the trio hurried away from the crowd.

"Avenger!"

"Vengeance Incarnate!"

"Thunderbreaker!"

* * *

The first of the dead to reach the chamber made Myson wish he had avoided eating anything.

Leering wisps charged the chamber, answering the unmistakable call of the horn, their incorporeal bodies twisting and flickering in ways that were simply inhuman.

Despite the swarming spirits charging them, Thales stood firm, his face impassive as a thousand faceless ghosts swirled about him.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Chilon muttered as the ghosts assailed their position, the two lesser members of the Septet watching their leader nervously.

"Silence." Thales barked.

Then as one, the ghostly spirits fell silent, as if the presence of Thales had somehow commanded their collective attention.

Then Myson saw the ghosts properly for the first time, and promptly staggered back.

The ghosts lacked faces, most consisting of nothing more than thin, translucent smoke.

"Cato. Son of Shambhala." Thales barked. "I have need of your services once more."

The ghostly tide shifted as a single face leered through.

"Thales!" A voice shouted.

Slowly, Thales turned to the spirit that had spoken, followed by Myson and Chilon.

The lifeless form of Kronya had fought through the crowd, the young woman still holding shape despite a gaping hole in her chest.

Thales replied with a vicious blast of magic, the explosion throwing the ghost back, obliterating three faceless ghosts in the process.

But yet Kronya still returned, though her form had flickered from the attack.

"My lord?" A voice asked from the other end of the room.

"Solon." Thales said calmly. "Good. I have need of you once more."

The ghostly form of Solon was flickering in contrast to the almost lifelike form of Kronya, and much had been lost.

"I see you have come to terms with your death." Thales observed.

"I-" Solon said weakly. "I had few regrets left."

"In our victory, those will be corrected. Come join us in service."

"I will." Solon replied quietly, the ghostly figure taking knee.

"Aranea." Thales called. "I will need your strength in the new world ahead."

"Sister!" The shifting form of Kronya shrieked. "Tell him!"

But the ghostly form of Aranea parted the undead crowd with grace rather than force, the gremory merely taking knee before Thales, the woman unwilling to even look upon her superior.

"Kronya." Thales said in a voice Myson had never heard before. "I will only tell you this once."

"What is it?" Kronya asked, her ghostly face suddenly hopeful.

"You have served your place in our history books." Thales promised sweetly, his voice soft as he smiled at Kronya. "Your services are no longer needed by Shambhala."

"No!" Kronya shouted. "I will bring that Byleth down! I will take his head from his shoulders and bring it to you!"

"No." Thales said as he turned his gaze away. "You have already outlived your usefulness."

"But I-" Kronya whispered, her face breaking as her form began to shimmer.

"Begone, those whom I have not called." Thales ordered as the legions of faceless ghosts seemed to shrink away, their bodies slipping into the darkness away from the chamber.

"I-" Kronya began, her face faltering as her form flickered and faded, claimed by the legions of the dead.

Thales did not say another word, but smiled as the crowd of ghosts returned to elsewhere in the forbidden realm of Zahras.

"Now that the chaff is separated from the wheat, let us commence." Thales said as he turned from the two remaining revenants, his stride steady until he reached the three condemned prisoners.

* * *

"How do you think life is there?" Yurius asked his partner as he approached her from behind.

"Life where?" Mortis asked.

"How do you think life is for those kids across the river?"

Mortis glanced up, her eyes watching two boys.

"I wouldn't drink the water from the river without at least boiling it." Mortis observed finally, one of the boys glancing back at their position across the river.

"Just because of them?" Yurius asked.

"Leonie too." Mortis replied. "Disgusting excuse of a sentient being, even by the standards of savages."

"What did you think of von Vestra?" Yurius asked.

Mortis turned her gaze away from the two boys across the river before she continued, her face complenative.

"He's a lot like Spite."

"Really?" Yurius asked.

"He's very devoted to his little Edelgard." Mortis said. "Tried to keep her out of the loop whenever we spoke."

"Really?" Yurius asked. "How does that relate to Spite then?"

"Kronya didn't know much about the world outside Shambhala." Mortis replied. "Spite kept a great deal of information away from her."

"Why?"

"You want to ask me why Spite didn't want to mention his blood feud with his direct superior to his loose cannon of a sister?"

"Alright, fine. You have a point." Yurius conceded.

"I think when he first met Hubert, he saw a lot of the same things that he saw in the mirror."

"What does Hubert have to do with anything?" Ignatz asked.

"Ignatz." Mortis greeted.

"You told you that you met Hubert before." Ignatz said.

"We did." Mortis confirmed. "Our direct superior did too."

"That's interesting." Ignatz replied. "When was this?"

Mortis shook her head. "I know that they met, but not exactly when."

"So your boss likes Hubert then?" Ignatz asked.

"A great deal." Mortis replied, watching the other man carefully. "He found his dedication admirable."

"Are we ready?" Lorenz asked weakly as he hurried over.

"Is Leonie feeling better now?" Yurius asked.

Lorenz nodded. "I'll have to watch her to make sure she doesn't drink all of our money away, but she should be in good enough shape that she makes it to Myrddin safely."

"Alright then." Mortis said. "Are what few coins I have left safe?"

The other three cracked weak smiles at the joke before Ignatz nodded. "I'm sure she can't drink her way through the entire treasury."

* * *

"I see that you are done with him." Spite said as he approached two bored looking soldiers standing before the broken forms of the two traitors, both condemned missing both pieces of flesh as well as limbs.

"What do you think boss?" The man on the left asked excitedly.

"The fact that they are still alive and capable of suffering is enough for me." Spite replied. "Summon forth the rest of Shambhala. I want them to see this."

"Even the guards on the outposts?" The man on the right asked.

Spite paused. "Very good point. But I trust there will be no shortage of witnesses willing to tell their friends the fate of these traitors."

The men nodded. "Shall we go now?"

"If you wish." Spite replied. "There is still time before the punishment will be enacted."

The men paused before leaving their overlord behind.

"Now." Spite said quietly as he ran his finger upon the broken form of the mage. "How shall I punish your treasonous little friends?"

The bound man failed to react apart from a slight flinch.

But the half dozen ambushers behind Spite took a long moment to lock the door to the rest of the base.

* * *

"Seteth?" The voice of Annette asked as the green haired man sat quietly in the library, his fingers flipping through a thick tome.

Seteth looked up, his eyes watching both Annette and Marianne as he closed the old tome.

"Hello there, Annette, Marianne."

Annette swallowed as she approached the older man. "Is it alright if we sit?"

"Please do." Seteth replied, gesturing to two other seats at the table.

Annette glanced at Marianne before she took her seat, her hands clasped tightly before her.

"Was there something that you wished to ask me?" Seteth asked as he watched the two sitting before him.

The sight of both Marianne and Annette flinching confirmed the truth to him.

"Very well then." Seteth said. "Feel free to ask."

Annette exchanged another glance with Marianne before she started. "How was my father during the war?"

Seteth clasped his hands on the desk as he watched Annette carefully. "Your father was very devoted to the church during the war."

Annette paused. "And what of my mother? My uncle?"

"I only spoke to your uncle only a single time over the war." Seteth admitted. "He mentioned that your mother was in good health, but he had little else to say about the topic."

Annette closed her eyes as she nodded. "Did my father ever speak of me?"

Seteth shook his head. "I saw him very infrequently, for he spent much of his time alongside Dimitri and Rhea. I spent a great deal of time working alongside Dedue and to a lesser extent, Duke Rodrigue."

Annette fell silent.

"Even now I question just how much I may have revealed to the enemy over the war." Seteth admitted a second later.

"What do you mean?" Annette asked.

"Lady Cornelia sent an underling to Fhirdiad on occasion to discuss the war." Seteth explained. "A Dark Knight by the name of Mortis. An equerry."

"Who was he?" Annette asked.

"She." Seteth corrected. "Even as I look back on the meetings, I feel a sense of dread. How she always seemed to watch me from a distance, how even Rodrigue nor the records of Fhirdiad seemed to never have even a mention for her."

"You believe she was a-" Annette started.

"An Agarthan, yes." Seteth said. "A descendent of those who almost destroyed us in the past."

The table fell into silence a moment later as Seteth looked at Annette again. "I'm sorry if I could not provide any other help with your inquiry."

Annette nodded before she turned to the other woman at the table. "Thank you. Marianne, didn't you have something to ask him?"

"Oh!" Marianne exclaimed in surprise. "Sorry, yes. I did."

Seteth turned his head to face the blue haired woman. "Please ask. I will assist in whatever way possible."

"Seteth, do you know about my Crest?" Marianne asked.

"The unknown Crest?" Seteth asked.

Marianne swallowed before she held up a hand, her Crest flickering to life before her.

"Maurice."

* * *

"Watch carefully." Chilon whispered to Myson as Thales reached the first of the condemned, the dim fire of Zaharas flickering as Thales paused.

Then reached into the man's chest, dark magic around the first finger of Thales tearing easily through the unfortunate victim, the man screaming in pain as a second finger followed the first.

"Is my brother well?" The flickering ghost of Aranea asked, watching the prisoner die with seemingly halfhearted interest.

"We aren't sure." Myson replied, glancing at Chilon for support. "Our radio back to Shambhala faltered shortly after we sent a message to destroy Arianrhod."

"What happened?" Aranea asked.

Chilon and Myson glanced at one another before turning to the distracted form of Thales, now having claimed his grisly prize from his victim.

The man still lived however, gasping feebly as his legs kicked the air.

"Poor bastard." Chilon muttered.

"He'll be out of his misery soon." Aranea replied.

"I hope so." Myson whispered, his face pale.

"Now, old servant." Thales commanded. "Rise and serve your people once more."

Even Chilon took a staggered step back as the heart torn from the dying victim slowly rose from the iron grip of Thales, whispers of dark flame hungrily revolving the stone as drops of blood from the dying man rushed forward, ever more crimson and black orbiting the black heart, now beginning to beat as magic and blood was fed to it.

And then the spirit of Solon, once Cato, was dragged into the ritual, the fading ghost becoming a third thread around the pulsating heart.

"Watch carefully Myson." Thales barked. "This is the power of Old Agartha!"

And then the chanting began, the thundering voice of Thales echoing from the walls of the chamber as the heart began to spin, rivers of blood, arcs of magic, and threads of spirit increasingly mummifying the black heart of the original victim.

Even though a part of him screamed in horror at the unholy scene before him, another part of Myson understood.

The words spoken were the tongue of Old Agartha, a language only a handful of the Septet spoke fluently.

"Malice." Myson translated, almost unwittingly.

Chilon frowned as he turned to the other man.

"Hate." Myson said. "Strength. Service."

"He's translating." Aranea said as she glanced upon the confused look on Chilon's face. "It's Old Agarthan."

"We offer." Myson whispered, his voice reduced to a whisper as the voice of Thales rose to a shout. "A chance for vengeance, power-"

And then the room exploded with dark power, the culmination of the unholy ritual knocking both Myson and Chilon back, both men wincing as they climbed back to their feet.

"Ascension." Myson finished as he found his legs once more, watching the pale form of the reborn Solon.

* * *

**AN**: DunDunDun.

Goddammit. Now I have to figure out a way to write the Ashen Wolves into the story. Thanks DLC Wave 4!

Regardless, the plot thickens and the body count grows.

**Next Time:**

Hard truths and easy lies

Wasted blood

A difficult night

Voice of the enemy

Nobody likes reactionaries

Read. **Review.** Follow.

Still looking for a beta.

**Review.**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19. The Damned Stand Ready

* * *

"Douglas! Ashe!" Felix shouted as he fought his way through the crowd. "What the hell is going on?"

"We'll explain later." Douglas said as he half marched, half dragged Ashe forward. "Right now we need to leave."

"What do they mean?" Felix asked as he pushed past a pair of children. "Just what happened with Catherine?"

Douglas tore past the guards at the command tent a mere moment before Felix did, the general waving off the two guards, panting as he pulled out a chair. "You have a lot of explaining to do."

"I know." Ashe said finally.

"I just didn't know it would come so soon." Douglas muttered. "We even burned the corpse. Who knew all those people were just standing there watching?"

"Ashe, what happened?" Felix asked.

"When I saw Catherine in the city, I lost it." Ashe said quietly. "When I came to, Catherine was dead."

"And what happened in between then?" Felix asked, his gaze finding Douglas.

Douglas grimaced at the question, but kept quiet.

"Tell him." Ashe replied. "He deserves to know."

"Ashe-" Douglas started, pausing to find the right word. "You killed Catherine."

"I can tell that from what he said." Felix snapped. "Just what exactly happened to make this such a big secret?"

* * *

_Siege of Fhirdiad, some weeks prior._

"Thunderstrike Catherine spotted!" Percival shouted, the man perched behind a burning barricade.

"Retreating from our flanking maneuver then." Byleth observed. "She's probably injured."

Douglas turned to Ashe as he lowered his bow, his eyes hard as he watched the younger man.

"Damn." Nora muttered, her bow drawn. "Can we confirm that?"

"Positive." Percival replied. "She's got a cavalry unit with her though. Nasty bastards. It'll make a direct attack difficult."

Ashe closed his eyes as Byleth turned to him.

"Ashe?" Byleth asked as the silver haired man opened his eyes again.

"Professor?" Ashe asked, their eyes meeting.

"Those cavalry units won't be able to break through a building." Byleth replied grimly. "Not mounted anyhow."

"I-" Ashe started, stopping as Byleth raised a hand to stop him.

"You have my permission to take this battle." Byleth said firmly. "I have faith in you."

Ashe nodded as he turned back to his battalion. "I'll take my leave then."

"Return to us when it's over." Byleth reminded him. "But get this off your chest."

"Right." Ashe said. "I'll catch up when I'm done."

* * *

"I don't remember that." Ashe said with a shake of the head. "Does the professor know- about everything?"

Douglas shook his head. "Like I said, we burnt the corpse after we were done. It's still probably there, being gnawed at by carrion birds and rats."

Felix grimaced at the words. "Right. Let's move on, though you still haven't answered by question."

* * *

"Maurice."

"Pardon?" Marianne asked.

"That's the Crest of Maurice." Seteth explained, pausing to take a small sip of tea, his face grim.

"Who?" Annette asked.

"He was one of the eleven bandits of old who stole the power of the Goddess for himself." Seteth replied.

"One of the Elites?" Annette asked. "I've never heard of him before."

"One of eleven, yes." Seteth explained. "Twelve if you include Nemesis."

"I don't understand." Marianne explained weakly. "Twelve Elites?"

"Do you recall the scholar who accused you of being the beast ravaging the forests south of Garreg Mach?" Seteth asked.

Marianne flinched. "You remember that?"

"I do." Seteth replied. "I suspected even at the time that it was Maurice behind the attacks."

"I- what happened to Maurice?" Marianne asked. "Why is he a rampaging beast?"

"He lost control of his power over the course of the War of the Ancients." Seteth explained. "By the time I had arrived at the battlefield, he had devoured his entire force."

"Devoured?" Annette spluttered, her face turning pale.

"We found very little evidence that his fighting force had ever existed to begin with. A rendered limb within a river, a hand trampled into the mud. It was a grim scene."

"How did it happen?" Annette asked. "How did he become a monster if he he had a Crest?"

"We learned later on that another of the Elites had turned his forces against him. The bandits paid dearly for their treachery." Seteth said. "It's possible that he turned as a monster when he was weakened by battle, not unlike Miklan Gautier."

"So I'm not-" Marianne said, stopping mid sentence as Seteth raised a hand.

"Not the beast that scholar accused you of being." Seteth assured.

Marianne nodded quietly as she slowly leaned back into her chair. "So this Maurice is still out there then?"

"I believe that the beast south of Garreg Mach may be Maurice, but I do not know for sure." Seteth said. "I have never had the opportunity to find out for myself."

"What about the other Elites?" Annette asked.

Seteth shook his head. "The first time Rhea called me into service was during the reign of Emperor Otto the Younger, roughly year 141. By then, we had lost any contact with the Elites who did survive the war."

"Which Elites survived the war?" Linhardt asked.

"Only a handful outlived Nemesis." Seteth admitted after a minute. "And those were wiped out almost immediately by infighting. We found little trace of them except the broken bodies of their followers."

"I see." Linhardt said quietly.

"I left Rhea's service not long after Otto the Younger died." Seteth said after a long moment. "I couldn't bear the thought of leaving Flayn any longer, especially when our enemy was seemingly defeated."

Annette nodded quietly. "Did Rhea ever bother you with any requests?"

Seteth shook his head. "Not until I was summoned the second time in the year 1162."

"Why was that?" Linhardt asked.

"Your father actually." Seteth replied. "Rhea realized that Ionius was centralizing power. Still, I did not expect that they would launch a coup against Ionius."

"You weren't called for when the Southern Bishop attempted his coup?" Linhardt asked.

Seteth shook his head. "No. I was not informed until well into my second term of service. And by then it had been over a century since the coup had failed."

Linhardt nodded as he sank back into his seat.

"May I ask something of you?" Seteth asked, as if remembering something suddenly.

"What is it?" Linhardt asked in turn.

"Does the Church of Sacred Charity still stand?"

"Pardon?" Linhardt asked, his face confused.

"Never mind then." Seteth said, disappointment colouring his voice. "Forget that I ever asked."

"Did Maurice have a Relic?" Marianne asked quietly.

Seteth paused before he nodded. "I believe he did, yes. A sword, if memory serves."

Marianne nodded. "Do you believe it was his sword that corrupted him?"

Seteth paused as he drummed his fingers against the table, his face in deep thought. "I don't know. We did not make the Heroes Relics, but I do not see any other item that could have made him a monster."

"Who did?" Linhardt asked. "You said the Heroes of old were bandits, not craftsmen."

"Correct." Seteth replied. "In that case, I will admit that the Old Agarthan Empire possessed the means to make weapons."

"Agarthan? Like Agarthan apples?" Linhardt asked.

Seteth paused. "Yes, that particular Agarthan. They had a disturbing prowess when it came to adding magic into weapons."

"Like what kind of magic?" Annette asked.

"How many of you joined the Professor into his campaign into the forest?" Seteth asked.

"I was with Leonie." Marianne spoke up. "She was at the front line."

"I was supporting Linhardt." Annette offered, to which the green haired man nodded.

"Do you remember the weapons Kronya and Solon were wielding?" Seteth asked.

"Athame and the Staff of Circe." Linhardt recalled. "A dagger and a staff, if memory serves."

"Correct." Seteth replied. "Those weapons were of Agarthan manufacture."

Marianne grimaced as Linhardt and Annette shared a wary glance.

"I also believe that the Scythe of Sariel was of Agarthan manufacture, though I was never able to confirm it personally."

"The weapon of the Death Knight, correct?" Linhardt asked.

"Yes." Seteth replied.

"What about that spear Hubert took from the guys in the woods?" Annette piped up.

Seteth swallowed. "You… cooperated with the Agarthan forces?"

"We moved to save a force associated with Lord Arundel before the invasion of Arianrhod." Linhardt explained. "They had created a powerful spear."

Seteth nodded weakly as he turned back to his book. "If it's possible, I would like to discuss such things with Hubert and Edelgard, and confirm the identity of this... spear."

"You wish to help us?" Marianne asked.

Seteth paused before he shook his head. "I fear the descendents of Agartha. The destruction they wrought last time was catastrophic. I cannot imagine a world of peace if they are not defeated."

"For Flayn?" Marianne asked.

"For all of us." Seteth replied as the room fell into silence.

* * *

"Well." Spite said. "I suppose you aren't going to bring all of your friends with you then?"

The group seemed to flinch uncomfortably at the words, and one of the would be assassins took a small step back.

"We wish to surrender." One of the soldiers admitted. "We're in over our heads."

A noise of protest escaped the man who had been tied in the centre.

"Very well then." Spite said. "May I ask why you chose this course of action to begin with? Why you would follow this imbecile into rebellion?"

"We lost friends at Arianrhod." A voice, this one female offered.

"Yes, and I lost a sister." Spite shot back, his eyes turning to the woman who had spoken.

"We thought that you didn't care." One of the other men said finally, glancing around his peers for support. "You're very cold, very closed off."

"And what would Shambhala do if it's overlord were to fall into pieces in a time of crisis?" Spite asked the man. "How would anyone trust my judgement on the battlefield?"

"That's a good point." One of the other men muttered as the first man fell silent.

The sound of the door rattling caused Spite to turn to the figure of Odesse on the other side of the door.

"Can someone get the door for him?" Spite asked.

"Right." One of the would be assassins muttered as he jogged over to the door, unlocking the door for the other mage.

"Oh. Spite. Your Staff." Odesse offered.

Spite turned his head strangely before he took the weapon from the lesser mage. "I've told you before, the staff is a mere token of office. I have no use for it."

"It's glowing." Odesse muttered, pointing the head of the staff toward his superior.

"A light feature I built into the staff when I ascended to the position." Spite replied. "Nothing more than a minor trinket."

"So it's not just a token of office then?" Odesse asked.

"No. I built a switch into it to activate the light feature. A switch you must have accidentally triggered." Spite replied.

"Oh. I uhh, dropped it." Odesse offered.

Spite blinked at the man before he sighed. "Alright then, if that is all you wished to tell me, may I finish up here? I was a conversation before you arrived."

"Um." Odesse muttered. "Right, of course. I have nothing else to report."

"Regardless, thank you for the staff." Spite said as the lesser mage slipped out of the door, the assembled group watching the door carefully before Spite turned his attention away from the door.

"Odesse thinks I'm an idiot." Spite muttered in annoyance.

"Pardon sir?" One of the women stammered.

"The switch to turn the light of the staff on and off is within the staff itself." Spite explained as he moved to turn the light off. "If the light was turned on by Odesse accidentally dropping the staff, then the staff in question would have to be in at least two pieces right now."

"Oh." The woman said.

"Still, Odesse only found a harmless part of the staff." Spite said. "He might not be standing if he found one of the dangerous parts."

"Pardon?" One of the men asked.

"I keep a reserve spell complement sealed within another part of the staff. Emergency weapon in the event my magic is exhausted or I am caught off guard. Had Odesse accidentally activated that compartment, there's a good chance he might have blown himself to pieces."

The group before him flinched at the words.

"Regardless, let's return to the topic at hand." Spite continued. "I will require you to confirm your loyalty."

"Confirm our- loyalty?" One of the women asked, her eyes darting as she looked about her peers.

"Correct." Spite replied. "I want you to remember the full price of treason."

One of the men flinched, taking a step back. "Decimation?"

"Correct." Spite replied. "Though I'm sure you all have a mutual conspirator you want dead."

The group paused at the words before they turned to the condemned man still limping hanging next to them.

"Ah." One man said. "I see. I suppose you don't mind him dead."

"Can we stab him?" One of the other men asked. "Considering what the other guys have done to him, I don't want to touch him."

"Be my guest." Spite replied. "So long as one of your conspirator friends is dead."

"Hold on, isn't he protected by your order?" One of the women asked, the other members of the group pausing as the question went unanswered.

"Very good. You remember that particular order." Spite offered. "But it is within my right to reduce or cancel such a punishment when I see fit."

The group exchanged glances before one of the women slipped a knife from the folds of her uniform, the blade cutting deep into the condemned mage.

At the sudden, violent attack, a wet gurgle escaped the man as the other conspirators rushed forward, each waiting for their own turn.

* * *

Myson glanced away as the second prisoner was split open, the woman gasping feebly as her heart was torn from her chest.

"What were they condemned for?" Myson asked the other member of the Septet, desperate to make small talk.

"Lover's quarrel." Chilon explained, his face impassive. "She had one of the men murder a pregnant woman in cold blood."

Myson winced. "She was found out?"

"Not hard to figure out who did it." Chilon muttered. "Spite-erm, Periander at least had the brains to cover his murders up properly."

"She a mage?" Myson asked.

"Indeed. Periander probably learned his dirty tricks through the Shambhalan Legion School. Magi outside the Septet are generally not the brightest when it comes to accident planning."

"Is that why he was selected to replace Solon?" Myson asked as the ritual began again, the dying woman's heart absorbing magic as the two men talked.

"I wasn't even in contention at the time. I enjoy field work too much." Chilon replied. "But to answer your question, he was selected to replace Solon because he had knowledge on how to use the Minuteman system."

"He was the one to fire on Arianrhod?" Myson asked.

"He's good with the Minutemen." Chilon replied as the wind began to howl again, the warrior turning back to watch the dead woman's body crash lifelessly back to the ground.

"You think he can fix the radio?" Myson asked.

"Possible." Chilon replied. "Though I regret dropping it to begin with."

Myson patted the other man on the shoulder. "We were in a hurry. Accidents happen."

"Doesn't make me feel any better." Chilon replied. "I still broke the damn thing."

Myson winced as the ritual began to culminate again, taking a step back as the wind buffered him, his arms raised to protect his face as his hat flew from his head.

And then for the second time that day, a fallen Shambhalan returned to the world of the living.

* * *

"We should reach Fort Mercedes if we leave early tomorrow." Hubert said as Byleth joined him at the small campfire at the base of the ravine, the flickering flames of the fire gnawing at the few sticks that they had fed it.

"How early?" Byleth asked.

"At least by daybreak, I'm afraid." Hubert replied. "Still, Lady Bergliez should be able to help us in that regard."

Byleth nodded. "Will you sleep outside?"

Hubert chuckled. "I doubt I'll even be able to sleep tonight."

"Too much on your mind?" Byleth asked.

A flicker of emotion in Hubert's eyes confirmed the question, but the dark haired advisor shook his head regardless. "I've grown used to sleepless nights a long time ago."

Byleth nodded quietly as he glanced at the small stream cutting through their path. "Do you recognize this place?"

Hubert nodded. "A tutor of mine said that this was the lowest point within the ravine."

"What was the subject?" Byleth asked.

"Geography." Hubert explained. "His lesson was that the lowest place within a certain location was the best place for an ambush."

Byleth glanced around the dark walls of the ravine, but said nothing.

"Rest assured." Hubert said. "Morganite Ravine is an impossible place to set up an ambush. Such an attempt has not been made in centuries."

Byleth cocked his head cautiously.

"When the Adrestian Empire was still whole, there was an assassination attempt here, conducted by a renegade battalion of mountain troops."

Byleth frowned, his gaze watching the ravine carefully.

"Granted, that particular attempt was crushed." Hubert offered. "Still, the empire has not used mountain units since the War of the Eagle and Lion. Our last units went rogue alongside House Rowe during the debacle with Arianrhod."

Byleth nodded quietly. "So we should be safe then?"

"Very much so." Hubert said.

"Have you seen Edelgard?" Byleth asked.

Hubert paused before he rose to his feet. "Follow me."

Byleth nodded as he rose to his feet, his eyes still watching the area despite Hubert's words.

"Watch your step." Hubert warned as he stepped over the small stream. "It's thin and shallow, but there's still a chance you might slip and get yourself soaked."

Byleth nodded as he crossed the stream, his eyes scanning the grass alongside the roads, his eyes taking a moment to find Edelgard.

Hubert paused as he also found Edelgard.

"I'll leave the two of you alone then." Hubert said.

"Please do." Byleth said as he turned his attention to the sleeping form of Edelgard.

Hubert nodded as he turned away, his hands clasped as he left for the main camp site.

* * *

"Paul." The man said.

Hawthorne refused to reply, taking another bite of his dinner as he let out a slow exhale.

"Have you gone deaf?" The man asked with a leer on his face. "I asked for you."

"Still the same worthless worm I see." Hawthorne said with a scowl. "It is a great tragedy that Adrasteia did not take your head like he did with your peers."

The man growled. "You want to say that to Varley?"

"He's one step away from the noose anyways." Hawthorne shot back. "I don't think Arundel will step in and save him this time."

"Watch your tongue." The former bishop scoffed.

"Watch yours. I'm the only reason Varley ever wound up as Count to begin with."

The bishop narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe that."

"How convenient for him that his far more talented and superior brother was run down by a cart twice in the same decade."

The man seemed to pause at the words as Hawthorne turned back to his dinner.

"Now, get out of my dining room." Hawthorne said. "Or I won't even try to make your death an accident."

The man grimaced. "I'll be back."

"I doubt it." Hawthorne said as he watched the door to his dining room shut.

"Anything we should do about him?" A man asked as he stepped from the shadows of the dining hall, a crossbow in his hands.

"We will not kill him, if that's what you are asking." Hawthorne replied. "See to it that a coffin is acquired from the city morgue."

"Where shall the coffin go?" The man asked.

"There will be a ship to Brigid leaving in the next three days." Hawthorne replied. "See to it that the pathetic worm becomes fish food."

The man smirked. "As you wish, Lord Hawthorne."

"The Emperor has disbanded the nobility." Hawthorne replied. "The title of Lord no longer exists."

"And you never wanted the title, yes, I'm aware." The man said with a shrug.

"Good." Hawthorne said as the man turned to leave.

"Matchstick?" Hawthorne asked after a moment.

"Yes?" The assassin asked in turn, turning back to face his employer.

"Have the kitchens bring me a bottle of brandy. Something cheap but strong enough to wipe that bastard from my mind."

"Of course." Matchstick said as he slipped through the doors.

* * *

"Hey Ingrid, do you know who the crowds are shouting for?" Caspar asked at the dinner table.

Ingrid blinked as Ashe froze in his seat.

"Pardon?" Ingrid asked. "I have no idea. That nurse just allowed me to leave her tent a few minutes ago."

"Are you feeling better?" Ashe asked, his face conderned.

"I'm feeling better, yes." Ingrid replied. "But I'm afraid I won't be in a position to fly anymore."

Ashe grimaced. "Right. That's a problem."

"Where's the closest place we can find a replacement mount?" Caspar asked.

"Garreg Mach." Ingrid replied. "If not there, then Enbarr."

"Can we find any in Galatea territory?" Douglas asked from his position in the corner of the tent, his eyes watching the table.

Ingrid shook her head. "I'm afraid not. I'm not exactly on good terms with my father regardless."

Felix scoffed. "None of us are."

"I wonder how dad is doing." Caspar said quietly.

"Wasn't he seconded to Emile?" Sylvain asked.

"He was." Ashe confirmed. "After that I believe he was sent to Brigid to serve Petra."

The room fell into silence as the five generals awkwardly ate their dinner.

"Ashe, why are you so jumpy?" Sylvain asked.

"Silver Knight?" A voice outside the tent asked.

Six sets of eyes settled on the girl at the entrance to the tent, her face wide eyed as she entered the tent.

"Wrong tent kid." Douglas snapped, moving to intercept the child. "Move on."

"It's fine for her to be here." Ingrid shot back, glaring at the former bandit. "It's not any of us have the stomach to finish dinner."

"Hey!" Caspar yelled. "I can eat all your leftovers!"

"All of us except Caspar." Felix muttered. "And I blame Raphael for that."

Douglas grimaced as he stepped back, having been overruled.

"Anyhow." Ingrid said as the girl settled next to their table. "Who was this silver knight you mentioned?"

"Him!" The girl pointed over the table.

"Douglas, I didn't know you were ever a knight." Sylvain commented.

Ingrid sighed as she lifted the girl up.

The girl blinked as she seemed to realize that she was pointing at the former bandit, turned her finger to Ashe instead.

"Is there something you're not telling us?" Sylvain asked.

"Ashe killed Catherine in single combat in Fhirdiad." Douglas explained. "You might imagine that the residents of the city didn't like her much."

Felix raised an eyebrow. "You mentioned that he killed her, but I didn't know it was single combat."

Ingrid pressed her lips together.

"You killed Catherine?" Sylvain asked, his face surprised.

"She killed Lonato." Caspar said. "I think he has the right to want revenge."

The room fell silent again.

"Right." Felix conceded, his face tight. "I'm going to step out."

"We're done too." Douglas said firmly. "Ashe, let's get going."

"What about the prisoner we took?" Sylvain asked.

Felix and Douglas both paused.

"Right. Her." Douglas admitted. "We need to have a long talk with her come tomorrow."

"Daybreak?" Felix asked.

"Too soon." Ingrid replied. "We should wait for the sun to be up first."

"Why is that?" Felix asked. "Sooner we can get the information, the sooner we can act on it."

"We should wait." Sylvain said at last. "We should all be fully awake when we conduct this talk of ours."

Ashe nodded weakly as he slipped away from the others. "I suppose we'll talk in the morning then."

"Get some sleep then." Ingrid said. "You'll need it."

* * *

"Soldiers of Shambhala." Spite said quietly as the assembled Machine Hall turned to look at the senior officer present. "One of these two condemned have, perhaps unfortunately, expired ahead of time."

The hall stood silently as Spite turned to the other body that had yet to die, their eyes not looking upon the disemboweled corpse next to Spite.

"I understand that we have undergone a period of great difficulty over the last few months." Spite said as he dropped the chin of the condemned man, turning to the mutilated corpse of the other man. "We have lost a significant number of our forces, and Thales has gone dark."

Spite paused as he turned to the crowd, his eyes watching the stony faces of his soldiers.

"But we will avenge our losses." Spite said. "For we stand here only because those we once fought with chose to give their lives in service to Shambhala. We stand here only because our ancestors were denied their birthright to walk in light."

The crowd stood quietly, unsure if any were permitted to speak as Spite stalked through their ranks.

"And it is honouring their sacrifice that I will not tolerate desertion." Spite continued as he stalked his way through the assembled ranks. "Had this traitor succeeded in his… cowardice, then the enemy would send their puppets to our home. To lay waste to the sacrifice of our brothers, fathers, sisters and mothers. To finish the slaughter the Nabateans failed to complete all those generations ago."

"And that is why I have contempt for that traitor." Spite finished as he turned back to the condemned man. "Which is why I will dirty my hands with his blood."

Then Spite began to walk back to the condemned man, his pace methodical as he stormed across the length of the Machine Hall.

"As Overlord of Shambhala." Spite snarled as he reached the traitor, his voice barely over a whisper. "I banish you from Shambhala. I condemn you to eternity amongst the traitors and the abominations. I condemn you to the world without light or hope."

Spite hissed as he coated his hand with dark might, the flames coating his hand as he tore through the man's chest, his hand tightened into a vice as he found the man's heart.

"_Zaharas awaits."_ Spite spat in old Agarthan, his eyes meeting the pained eyes of the other man.

Around the floor of the Machine Hall, dark fire lashed out, the flames forcing the front line of assembled soldiers back.

"_You_." Spite hissed as the dark flames began to devour his still living victim. "_Are. Nothing._"

Even Odesse winced as the shadowed fire dissipated, the hunkered form of Spite standing over where the traitor had spent his final moments, the flames having consumed even the corpse of the dead man next to the traitor.

"You are all dismissed." Spite said as he turned to the crowd before him. "I will be in my office should anyone require me."

And then Spite stalked from the room, leaving the combined mass of Shambhala behind him.

* * *

"Sleeping?" Petra asked the other man as the carriage stopped at a small clearing along the road.

"She's asleep, yes." Gregory Dominic confirmed as he stepped from the carriage. "Come, let's step out so we can talk."

"We can talking here." Petra replied.

"We can." Gregory replied. "But she will not be able to sleep."

"I understanding." Petra replied. "Are we closer to Garreg Mach?"

"We are." Gregory replied. "Two days of travel and we should get there."

Petra nodded before she turned to the sky, watching the moon carefully.

"Is the sky like this? In Brigid?" Gregory asked.

Petra shook her head. "Cooler."

Gregory nodded. "It's very warm this time of the year."

"I know." Petra said.

"Right." Gregory said. "You were here for five years."

"Annette?" Petra asked.

Gregory let out a slow sigh as he nodded. "Yes. If possible, I'd like to know about Annette."

"She misses her mother. You, her father."

Gregory shook his head, his face gaunt. "I see."

"She would cry at night. Call for Gustave."

Gregory swallowed at the information. "I understand."

"She longing for family."

"Homesickness." Gregory translated grimly.

"And you?" Petra asked. "How you think of her?"

The man looked away as he opened his mouth, shutting it a moment later.

"When she declared for the Empire, there was a great rage here." Gregory admitted. "A bishop burned Dominic Manor to the ground."

"Manor?"

"Our ancestral home when she wasn't in the Capital. Some wanted to kill her mother."

Petra looked stunned at the words, her eyes widening to reveal great surprise.

"I stopped them from harming Madeline, but they never forgave what Annette did."

"What happening to them?" Petra asked.

"They fell in battle." Gregory replied. "The local bishop was a fool who had never fought on the battlefield. It was a slaughter."

"Who?"

"Your Death Knight." Gregory replied. "I'm told that he carved his way through the army practically single handedly. When he took the bishop's head, the battle became a rout."

Petra frowned. "Is land safe for Annette?"

"If possible, I hope Annette will never step foot on that part of Fodlan again." Gregory replied. "That she would forget all about this part of the world."

"Do you believe-"

"No." Gregory replied. "She would never forget Gregory Manor. And all I can do now is wait for when she returns."

* * *

"We're here." Ignatz said as he opened the door to the other carriage, smiling at the two mercenaries sitting within.

"Is that so?" Yurius asked quietly, putting a finger to his lips to silence the artist.

"She's asleep?" Ignatz whispered as he glanced at Mortis.

"Fell asleep halfway through." Yurius confirmed.

"Is she alright?" Ignatz asked.

Yurius waved off the shorter man as he gently shut the door behind him. "She's fine. She just had a bad night. Related to Leonie no doubt."

Ignatz laughed weakly at that as he let Yurius step out of the carriage, gently shutting the door behind him. "Regardless of that, welcome to the Great Bridge of Myrddin."

Yurius nodded as he glanced around the town, frowning at a small monument at the centre of a nearby street.

"Is that supposed to be there?" Yurius asked. "That statue is blocking the road and all."

Ignatz winced as he passed the makeshift monument. "It shouldn't be up, but I understand why it is."

"What is it? And why is it standing there of all places?"

"It's a tribute to an Alliance general." Ignatz explained weakly. "She fell in combat when we took the bridge from the Alliance."

Yurius nodded. "And that spot was where she fell then?"

Ignatz nodded. "That's right."

Yurius grimaced as he quietly eyed the various buildings of the town. "The town is different from when I was last here."

Ignatz raised an eyebrow to the comment. "When was that?"

"Six years ago." Yurius replied. "I was with Mortis and-"

"The rest of your unit?" Ignatz suggested helpfully.

Yurius was about to confirm with the other man before thinking better of it. "No, it was just me and Mortis. We were escorting someone to Enbarr."

"I see." Ignatz replied. "I trust the mission went well?"

Yurius shook his head at the memory, one of the last days he had seen Kronya alive. "Yes and no. There were some ups and downs to the mission, but that particular part of the mission went according to plan."

"That sounds like a very interesting topic." Lorenz said as he approached the two men. "Perhaps we can talk about it once we have some dinner, but first we should see to the local treasury to repay some of our debt to you and Mortis."

Ignatz nodded. "With the amount in the treasury, we should be able to pay back a significant portion of the money we owe."

"Money isn't too big of a concern." Yurius said with a wave of the hand. "I'm sure Mortis won't mind if we weren't repaid immediately."

Ignatz shook his head. "My parents were merchants. They taught me to pay a debt quickly."

"I agree." Lorenz. "We should absolutely pay back this debt as soon as possible. It is a noble thing to do. As the son of Duke Gloucester, I swear to repay the debt quickly."

Yurius snorted. "As the son of a pair of craftsmen, I'm more than understanding if a payment comes in a bit later. So long as we got what we wanted in the end, it's fine."

"That's interesting." Lorenz offered. "What did your parents make?"

"Not much." Yurius admitted. "They were pretty low in the pecking order in our unit. Even if they were unhappy, they had nobody to complain to."

"I know this might be odd to ask, but what about Mortis?" Ignatz asked. "What were her parents like?"

"I'm not sure. She was an orphan for as long as I could remember." Yurius admitted. "Not someone I had a lot of interaction with growing up."

Lorenz frowned at the words. "That must have been difficult. Not having parents growing up."

"We had someone raise us within the unit." Ignatz offered. "But yes, she was distant from a lot of us. The magic users in our group were generally separate from the rest of us."

"How did you get to know her then?" Ignatz asked as the group entered a nearby building, smiling and waving at the two guards present.

"I wasn't part of our mage corps." Yurius replied with a shrug. "It was a surprise for me. One day I was pulled aside and told I would be paired with her for a mission."

"Do you know why?" Lorenz asked.

Yurius paused. "Mortis had a mentor within the unit. I suspect he picked me personally."

"That's odd." Lorenz said as he gestured for the group to turn down a corridor. "What was this escort mission about? If you don't mind me asking, of course."

"Someone close to Mortis' mentor needed to do something in Enbarr." Yurius explained. "We were to watch over her as this went on."

"That's interesting." Lorenz said as he began to descend a set of stairs. "Was this when you met with Hubert?"

"Briefly." Yurius admitted. "Mortis met with him more than I did."

Lorenz nodded as he opened the door to a large room. "Here we are, the treasury."

"Is it usually unguarded like this?" Yurius asked as he looked around the room.

"That is odd indeed." Lorenz said as Ignatz entered the room. "There should be guards here."

Yurius felt his eyes narrow. "We should open the vault up, see if anything is amiss."

Lorenz nodded as he pulled a key from a pocket within his clothes, quicking turning on the lock.

As the door swung open, Ignatz gasped.

"The money in the vault! It's gone!"

* * *

Ashe slipped over the damaged barricade carefully as Douglas and Nora covered his rear.

"Percival?" Ashe called softly into the night.

"We should be there soon boss." The other soldier replied as he gently placed a salvaged beam away, clearing the way for their party to move into the city. "Doubt anyone's been to this part of the city recently."

Ashe grimaced. "It's different from the last time we were here."

"It is." Douglas said as he huddled next to Ashe. "It wasn't a ghost town the last time we were here."

"It was like hell itself." Nora muttered.

"Nora, are you familiar with the city?" Douglas asked.

"Little bit." Nora replied. "We should be in the merchant's quarter now."

"Are there any granaries here?" Ashe asked.

Nora nodded as she stood to survey the land. "Merchants would store their stocks here."

"We'll need to send in more men in the day then." Ashe said. "Maybe we could find that seed stock we were looking for."

"Only when we finish our work here." Douglas said grimly. "That comes first."

"Boss!" Percival called. "I see the church."

"Can you confirm that?" Douglas asked.

"Positive." Nora said. "That's the damn church alright. Some rich merchant built it when I was a kid."

"Then we are close." Douglas said. "Shall we get out our torches?"

"No." Ashe replied as he glanced behind Nora. "Not yet."

"Until we reach the barricade?" Percival asked.

"Sounds about right." Douglas muttered. "You ready for this Ashe? It ain't going to be pretty."

Nora winced. "How will we know it's her?"

"Armour plates." Percival explained.

"Ah." Nora said. "Shiny metal plates. I see."

"Shush." Percival said. "I see the barricade."

"Is it the one?" Douglas asked.

"I recognize the wood." Percival muttered. "Definitely where we dumped the body."

"Sounds like we found the right place." Douglas muttered. "Torches?"

"Here we are." Nora said as she slipped one to Douglas. "Everyone ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be." Percival muttered, the Duscarian looking slightly pale in the moonlight

"Be sick back in the camp." Douglas snapped. "We're here to find closure."

"Right." Percival muttered as he struck a spark, the flame hungrily snapping at the small baton of wood.

"Give us a light?" Nora asked.

"Gladly." Percival said.

"And what of us?" Caspar asked.

All four members of the warband spun around, their eyes focused on the face of Caspar standing behind them.

"You idiot." Felix hissed from behind Caspar. "Why did you do that?"

"Felix, I'm sure it's fine." Ingrid said gently from behind the two blue haired men. "After all, we would have made ourselves known sooner or later."

"Oi!" Sylvain snapped. "I wasn't that loud!"

Ashe paled and looked stunned. "What-"

"Look." Sylvain said. "We can tell that you weren't comfortable at dinner."

Ashe swallowed at the words as his knees gave out. "I-"

"Ashe." Ingrid said as she rushed forward, her hands cupping his face as she lowered herself to his position. "You can tell us the truth."

* * *

**AN: **Chapter complete.

A minor update will go to the first chapter explaining that it's a non-plot, crack humour chapter (written before I actually intended for this project to be a serious story), and those looking for plot should skip to the second chapter.

Still looking for that beta. Inbox and Discord always open.

For anyone interested in the Ashen Wolves, I'll integrate them into the story later on. Until I can get a full grasp on their character and motivations, I'm not going to put them into my story (expect them to appear first in chapters 21-22).

**Next time.**

Flashbacks are fun.

The beginnings of a paralogue.

Of monsters and men.

To walk amongst the enemy.

A guided tour of darkness.

**Review. **


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Philistine

**AN: **Hello Readers! Sorry about posting the wrong chapter. It was getting late and I was tired. Thank you to the reviewer who pointed it out.

**AN 2**: In my desperation to post the correct chapter, I didn't notice the last minute addition of a AN was incomplete and wrong.

Sorry.

* * *

_The Burning of Fhirdiad, some weeks prior._

Douglas grimly gestured for the second wing to advance, pausing for a moment to watch Ashe taking up their rearguard.

"You sure the church will be safe anymore?" One of the archers whispered as he reached his position, eyes glancing nervously at the burning buildings along the streets.

"It's made of stone." Nora shot back. "Get moving Kevin."

"Sheesh." The man muttered as Ashe broke off the rearguard, the ambush force moving quietly through a side street as they aimed to stalk Catherine and her band of calvary.

"Where did those Indech Sword Fighters go?" Nora asked quietly.

"Probably dead." Douglas snapped. "Be glad that you don't have to face them. Now do your job."

At the words, one of the archers hurried out of the church. "No good boss. One of the wood beams is already collapsing."

"Not a problem." Douglas replied. "Head to the second floor. Staircase to the right."

"It's smokey as hell in there." The man said as he coughed.

"Good." Douglas snapped. "Anyone who tries to flank our position is going to choke."

"You heard the man." Nora muttered as she passed through the front of the group, a hand over her nose and mouth as she darted through the building.

Slowly, the rest of the warband slipped into the building, each followed by another.

"Hold still until we can all fire as one unit." Douglas snapped to the soldier before him. "Pass it on."

Ashe hurried past Douglas into the church as the older bandit shut the door they had used to enter the building behind him.

"Ashe!" Douglas snapped, grabbing at the young man.

Ashe shrugged off the hand of his second, his eyes burning with murderous intent.

Douglas swore as he followed his leader, taking the time to cover his face from the choking smoke.

"Bastard." Douglas muttered to nobody in particular as he reached the staircase to the second floor of the church.

* * *

The name rang clear through his head as he stormed up the tower, the voice of his father's murderer becoming ever louder.

"On my command." Douglas snapped, rallying the warband behind him. "Three bows on each target. The arsonist belongs to Ashe alone. Got it?"

The group didn't respond for a moment, but Ashe felt a slight relief against his chest when the man next to him chose to point his bow at one of the other knights rather than against Catherine.

For a long moment, Ashe watched the woman who had cut down his father and handed his brother in for execution, choosing to pull an arrow from his quiver as he watched her.

_Her throat or her head? _

_A joint in her armour or her horse? _

_To kill or to torment? _

And then the choice was made for him.

One of the other knights pulled from somewhere in his uniform a small flask.

Ashe waited as he focused his rage on the small flask, undoubtedly a vulnerary or elixir.

Then he let the arrow fly.

"Fire!" Douglas roared beside him, a dozen arrows raining upon the band of knights below.

But the arrow he had let loose struck first, the glass flask shattering upon impact, it's precious contents spluttered over the ruined street.

And then Ashe looked upon Catherine again, her eyes meeting his for the first time in five years.

Her face twisted in rage as Ashe tore another arrow from his quiver, his eyes already focused on her knee, the armour there having been lost during the fighting.

And then Ashe let the arrow fly, ignoring the shouts around him as he steadied himself for the kill.

The second arrow plunged through the air, and despite a last minute attempt from Catherine to dodge the arrow, the arrowhead nonetheless plunged into her knee.

A ghoulish grin spread across Ashe's face as he levelled a third arrow at the unprotected face of Catherine, now glaring defiantly back at him.

This arrow however, failed to find it's mark as a knight threw himself in front of his crippled master, the arrow bouncing harmlessly off his armour.

A scream of agony roared through the air as a blast of magic unseated one of the nearby knights, the man sprawling to the ground as a corps of mages turned to finish the calvary regiment.

"It's von Vestra." Douglas muttered as Ashe climbed over the barricade.

"Ashe! What the hell are you doing?" One of the other archers asked, stunned.

Douglas swore as Ashe disappeared into the street. "Nora! Take a third of the unit! Cover Ashe! Rest of you! On me!"

If Ashe had heard the words, he didn't show it, landing with a roll and a hiss and storming forward, yet another arrow slipping into his bow.

Catherine roared as she tried to stagger to her feet, one leg bloodied and crippled by the earlier arrow.

Ashe replied with a single arrow up high, the arrow plunging into Catherine's neck.

Catherine gagged as she staggered back, her fingers clawing at the arrow lodged in her throat.

But he wasn't done. Not yet. With another growl, Ashe stormed forward, slamming a foot into the armoured plate of the dying woman.

Catherine, weakened by battle and her injuries, sprawled back to the ground, a gasp of pain escaping her lips as she fell to the tiles of the burning city.

"Ashe!" Douglas shouted. "She's dead! We need to go on!"

For a long moment, the figure of Ashe paused and stopped, illuminated by the fires burning around him.

And then Ashe brought his bow down.

"By the gods." One of the archers muttered as he turned away.

"Guards!" Douglas snapped. "Cover him!"

The words of their leader snapped the warband out of their stupor, the assembled group hurrying past the pale form of their leader, his maddened face splattered with the blood of his victim.

"This is for Christophe." Ashe whispered as Douglas took a position just before him.

Douglas grimaced as the sound of Ashe's bow smashed into Catherine.

"Look alive." Douglas reminded his group. "No distractions."

"And Lonato."

_Smash_

"How long until it's over?" Percival asked with a wince.

"When the Immaculate One dies, the rest of the troops here should surrender." Douglas explained quickly, glancing at Ashe as he spoke.

_Smash_

"Not what I meant." The man muttered, hands shaking as he raised his bow higher.

"Just do your job." Douglas hissed as he turned back to face the street before them.

_Smash_.

Douglas pressed his lips together as a knight staggered away from the mage corps, the archer rising from his position to fire an arrow against the knight, the projectile barely missing the man.

Perhaps seeing that he was under attack from two sides, the man staggered against a nearby house, only for the charred wood to give way.

Douglas winced as the house collapsed entirely, a pile of wood and straw burying the knight alive, leaving only his kicking legs visible as the upper half of his body disappeared under the collapsing house.

"Hail." The voice of Hubert von Vestra called out, stalking through the flames alongside a small group of mages.

"Thunder Catherine is dead." Douglas explained quickly in greeting.

Hubert glanced at the scene behind Douglas and nodded, his face grim.

"Very well then. I'll take Thunderbrand into my possession and… leave you to it." Hubert offered as Ashe unleashed another blow onto his victim.

Douglas nodded as he rose from his position, hurrying along to the other side of the dead Catherine, the man grimacing as he took up the weapon in his hand, the blade practically twitching within his hand as he hurriedly turned the blade over to Hubert.

"Nasty thing isn't it?" Hubert asked as he placed the blade over his shoulder. "To think of the blade turning against you in your darkest hour. Monstrous."

Douglas nodded.

"I'll take my leave then." Hubert said as he turned away. "There are other enemies within this city who must fall. Try not to take too long with the dead."

_Smash_

* * *

Ashe gasped when the red haze lifted from his vision, his breathing laboured.

"He's done." Douglas said from behind him. "You two, help him up."

Ashe choked in a gasp, the air an unmistakable mixture of blood and smoke.

"Wha-?" Ashe asked as the shield of his bloodlust faded, a great pain returning to his hands.

"You're hurt." Douglas said grimly. "Sit down."

Ashe swallowed as he nodded, watching the scene of carnage unfold.

"Douglas." Ashe whispered, breathless. "Just… what happened?"

Douglas shook his head. "That's for another time. We'll need to patch you up for the fight ahead."

Ashe shook his head. "I… I don't know what just happened."

"Good." Douglas said grimly. "Nora. Patch him up. Percival. Help me out."

"On it." Nora said as she led Ashe away from the butchered form of Catherine, still lying in the street.

"Where are we dumping her?" Percival asked, his face contorted in disgust as he kicked the dead body.

"You saw the knight buried under the house over there?" Percival asked, gesturing to the crumpled form of the building.

"We dump her there and drop something on top?"

"Read my mind." Douglas muttered as he crouched down, his hands seizing the dead woman's ankles. "Ready when you are."

Percival grimaced. "Did she-"

"Just do your job Percival." Douglas growled. "Nobody will know if the body is burnt to a crisp."

"Thunder Catherine. What a way to die."

"Just do your job Percival." Douglas hissed. "If you were so concerned for her dignity, you could clean the corpse up _after_ we win the battle."

Percival nodded, though he was still a deathly pale, as he hoisted the dead woman by her arms, the flames of the burning town illuminating her face as they crossed into a well lit part of the street.

"Fuck." Percival muttered. "First that, now this."

"She killed his father and turned his brother in for execution." Douglas snapped. "I think she got off lightly. And that's not even counting how many people she burned to death tonight."

Percival nodded as he turned his head away from the woman's brutalized face, his eyes lost in the fire of Catherine's funeral pyre.

* * *

"Where in the world is the gold?" Yurius asked as he stepped into the empty vault, his eyes taking on the bare walls, as if there was a trap door somewhere leading to the treasure.

"It- it should be here!" Ignatz protested. "Surely there was gold here before we left?"

"There was." Lorenz muttered. "There's no gold left here."

"What about the guards at the door?" Yurius asked. "Do they know anything?"

"There were guards at the doorway?" Leonie asked, her voice surprised. "Didn't see any on my way down."

"There's something wrong here." Lorenz muttered. "The gold we needed to pay the debt with is gone!"

"What?" Leonie asked, her voice in rage. "How are we going to find food here?"

Lorenz gave Leonie a look of exasperation. "We are at a crisis like this, and you think of only your drinks."

"There are good beer places here!" Leonie protested. "Why shouldn't I want to have some before we leave?"

"We need to look around." Lorenz said grimly. "Let's talk to the guards at the doorway."

"Agreed." Yurius replied. "They would have been able to see anyone who came in or out, unless there's a secret door somewhere?"

Lorenz shook his head. "There is a door out, but it's too small to have anyone to carry out a large amount of gold without notice."

"Hold on." Ignatz said. "You think someone is out stealing gold?"

"Yes." Yurius, Leonie, and Lorenz said in unison.

"Alright alright!" Ignatz proclaimed, his hands raising in surrender. "Should we be worried for Maya or Evi?"

"Only if they insisted on buying more dresses." Lorenz muttered.

"Are they interested in buying more dresses?" Yurius asked out loud.

The group paused for a long moment before Lorenz nodded. "Most likely."

"Damn." Leonie muttered. "Just our luck then."

"At least Mortis is still sleeping on top of whatever gold we have left." Yurius laughed as he began his trek up the staircase to the tower.

"She is?" Leonie asked.

"She didn't sleep well last night, so she's making up for it here." Yurius explained. "They'll have to tear the gold from her cold, dead hands."

"Am I that loud?" Leonie complained, scoffing at the man.

The three men stood silently for a moment before Leonie turned to each of them.

"Oh go to hell." Leonie muttered.

"Even Hilda used to complain that you snored through the walls." Lorenz offered.

"She did what?" Leonie muttered. "That's rude!"

"Where do you think we should start?" Ignatz asked, changing the uncomfortable subject.

"Sheriff's office." Lorenz said. "They'll probably notice anyone slipping in and out of the vault building. Plus, they're probably the only place still open at this point."

"Sheriff's office it is." Leonie said with a groan. "Let's get it over with. I need a drink."

"Don't think any bars will be open at this hour." Yurius muttered as he turned away from the rest of the group, strolling into the night as he stretched his arms.

* * *

"May I ask a question?"

Myson glanced over at the form of Aranea standing over him, frowning as he nodded.

"Is my brother-"

"We aren't sure." Chilon explained. "Our radio to him… broke."

Aranea grimaced. "I see."

"Sorry if that wasn't the answer you were looking for." Myson explained.

"I don't suppose you know what happened to Mortis then?"

"His apprentice?" Myson asked. "No, I don't."

Chilon joined the other man with a nod of the head, though he froze midway through the second nod.

"You may ask your brother those questions yourself." Thales said as he approached the group. "We will soon return to the surface, and from there, we will only stay a short while before we return for Shambhala. Only long enough to ensure our presence there will not be noticed by potential pursuers"

"How far off are we?" Chilon asked. "From the camp of course."

"Not far now." Thales replied. "The room we currently stand in was once a small outpost operated by the forces of Old Agartha. Rest assured, there are maybe a handful of hallways before we can reach our hideout."

"Good. I need a shower." Chilon offered.

"Is there any information on Bias or Pittacus?" Myson asked.

Thales turned to the lesser mage with a long look.

"Right." Myson said as Thales turned away. "We're in Zaharas. Nothing gets in or out of Zaharas, certainly not news."

* * *

The sheriff behind the desk glanced up and grimaced at the four figures standing before him.

"Ah. General, I-"

"I do not wish to be rude, but we have little time for pleasantries." Lorenz said quickly. "The contents of our vault are missing."

The man nodded as he slipped back into his chair. "Right. I suspected that might have happened."

"What happened?" Ignatz asked.

The man grimaced. "While you were away, there was a riot at the base of the tower. The town guard couldn't stop the looters."

Lorenz nodded. "I see. Do we know who the looters were?"

"Residents on the Alliance side of the bridge." The sheriff said grimly. "Nothing short of violence would have stopped them."

Lorenz shook his head. "It would have been disgraceful to use violence against civilians. I must speak with my father. Then perhaps we can come to an agreement.

The sheriff let out a slow sigh before he nodded. "There is something else that I must tell you."

"What is that?" Ignatz asked.

"Your father's forces are firmly on the side of the rioters."

"How so?" Yurius asked. "Isn't the Adrestian Empire paying for their services?"

Lorenz shook his head. "My father has only kept his personal Huscarl guard. He is unable to keep upkeep on many of his less professional forces."

"And this force of Huscarls is hostile to us?" Yurius asked.

"When a regiment of Imperial infantry attempted to arrest a group of looters, your father's men prevented them." The sheriff explained. "There weren't any fatalities, but the Imperial garrison was furious."

Lorenz paused before he shook his head. "I'll negotiate with my father then."

Yurius grimaced. "How long will this take?"

"That's right, you need to be on your way quickly." Lorenz admitted. " Perhaps a day at most. If I can convince my father to refund you the gold that we owe, then I believe we can part ways."

"So just the four of us then?" Leonie asked.

"What about Mortis?" Ignatz asked.

Yurius shook his head and practically hissed. "No. Mortis would only make our trip worse."

"She is a skilled rider." Lorenz pointed out.

Yurius scoffed. "I meant it in terms of diplomacy. Mortis is too reliant on fear and violence to get her way. She got that bit from her mentor."

"I see. Very ignoble." Lorenz said with a grimace. "Very well then. Just the four of us. Ignatz, do inform Maya and Evi about where we are going. We don't wish for them to be worried."

"I'll tell Mortis what's going on." Yurius said quickly. "Should we meet up somewhere at, say daybreak?"

Lorenz nodded. "Very well then. Daybreak at the Alliance end of the river then?"

Yurius nodded as he turned away, starting his trip to the carriage at the edge of the river, still with Mortis inside.

* * *

"Mortis?" Yurius asked as he knocked on the door to their carriage.

"Yurius?" Mortis asked from within, her voice groggy.

"Sorry to wake you, but I'll be headed on some business with the others."

The door swung open as the tired face of his partner came into view. "Why? Where are you going anyways?"

"Turns out the gold the others were trying to get back wasn't there." Yurius explained. "Some rioters came and stole it all."

"Bastards." Mortis muttered. "Still, we don't exactly need the gold."

"It would look suspicious if we were so flippant about the gold and not getting it back." Yurius pointed out.

Mortis sighed as she stepped from the carriage, forcing a hand through her unkempt hair. "Very well then. I suppose I'll be in an tavern somewhere within the town. You want to say anything to Spite? Ask about anything?"

Yurius swallowed. "Yeah, ask him about the rebels for me."

Mortis nodded in turn. "Alright then. How long should this whole detour take?"

"A day at most." Yurius said. "If I'm not back after two days, go on without me. I'll catch up."

Mortis nodded. "You bringing your sword with you?"

Yurius frowned. "I don't know. On one hand, if things become hairy, then I'll be defenseless, but if the rioters see the sword, they might get the wrong idea."

"Better be safe than sorry then." Mortis said as Yurius tied his blade to his belt.

"You going to stay here or are you going to head to a hotel?" Yurius asked.

"I'll stay for the time being. Too early for anyone at the hotel to be awake. Maybe I'll try and see if Spite is awake on the radio."

Yurius nodded. "Stay safe."

Mortis scoffed as she slipped back into the carriage. "You too."

* * *

Edelgard groaned as she opened her eyes.

For a moment she could only see the dark sky above her and the long grass along her head.

Slowly, Edelgard wondered if she had done the right thing sleeping outside, though she frowned at the weight on her chest.

She sat up slowly, frowning as she realized Byleth's cloak had been draped over her body, her eyes drifting suddenly to the blue haired professor, whose fingers had found hers over the night.

"I see you've- oh." Hubert muttered, flushing red at the prospect of interrupting an intimate moment.

"It's alright Hubert. I'm awake." Edelgard said quietly.

Hubert nodded as he walked close to Edelgard. "We should be ready to move shortly."

Edelgard nodded. "Will the trip be more difficult now that we'll be going uphill?"

Hubert shook his head. "The incline of the ravine is not steep. We should reach Fort Merceus before nightfall."

"And how far is that from Garreg Mach?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard flinched at the sudden voice of her professor. "I thought you were asleep."

Byleth shook his head as he sat up. "I woke up earlier. I just enjoy lying here and holding hands."

Edelgard flushed ever darker than Hubert, who hurriedly glanced back at the main convoy.

"Right." Hubert said quickly. "There'll be a bit of food across the river. Watch your step over the stream."

Edelgard nodded weakly as she watched Hubert walk away.

"No bad dreams today?"

Edelgard shook her head as she stood up. "Let's get some food."

"I wonder what they have to offer us." Byleth replied.

"We shall see." Edelgard said firmly as they stood.

"What are you thinking of?" Byleth asked as he took a second more to rise to his feet.

"I'm not sure. Edelgard replied. "I-argh!"

"Edelgard!" Byleth shouted as Edelgard fell back, her hands over her head.

"Lady Edelgard?" Hubert asked, rushing over.

"I'm fine." Edelgard replied. "The water in the river is cold though."

Byleth winced and looked down at Edelgard's bare feet.

Edelgard blushed heavily. "I-"

"El." Byleth chided gently. "I know. You told me back at Garreg Mach, all those years ago."

Hubert opened his mouth to say something, but frowned as rays of golden light blinded him.

"Oh look." Edelgard said softly, a smile breaking out across her face. "The sun is rising."

* * *

"We've recovered the body." A grim faced soldier offered as he approached the group of generals standing by the central square.

Ingrid nodded in thanks as she gestured for the rest of the group to move.

"Let's get this over with." Sylvain said as he rose to his feet, having previously sat on a nearby fountain.

"Ashe, you coming?" Caspar asked.

"Leave him." Felix snapped.

"I'll come." Ashe interrupted.

Felix glared at Douglas. "Hold him in place. We don't need him seeing all of this."

"Has the body been identified?" Ingrid asked the soldier, still standing to the side of the group.

The man shook his head. "The body has been- well, damaged would be a gross understatement."

"Is it her?" Ingrid said again, more firmly this time.

"We believe so. The body was exactly where they said it was, and the armour on the corpse matches eyewitness accounts."

"So be it." Sylvain said with his face dark. "Let's get this over with. We don't want another riot."

"I don't get it." Caspar muttered. "All this for a dead guy. What was so important about him anyways?"

"In one ear, out the other." Felix groaned. "How many times did we have to explain this again?"

The soldier looked troubled. "I'm not quite sure what's going on either. Can someone explain?"

Ingrid exchanged a look with Felix, Sylvain and Douglas before she sighed.

"We've located the corpse of Fhirdiad's Arsonist." Ingrid said. "We're going to destroy it before someone else finds out and causes a riot."

The soldier's jaw fell. "That- thing…"

"Yes." Douglas said firmly. "That thing oversaw the burning of Fhirdiad."

"Damn." The man muttered. "Shouldn't we like, you know, put it on display somewhere?"

Ingrid shook her head. "We are not monsters. Not like them. We aren't going to plant a head on a pike."

"The body put on public display would likely incite another riot." Douglas added. "Even with the burning of Fhirdiad, there's likely to be a number of loyalists still present within the refugees. Idiotic bastards can't seem to tell between the guys feeding them and the ones who torched their damn city."

The man nodded. "And the armour?"

"Bury it with the body." Felix snapped. "We don't want anyone to know what happened to it. Or have it melted down and cast into coins. It doesn't matter."

"I-" Ashe said after a long moment of silence as he stood up. "I want in. I need to see this through."

Sylvain and Felix exchanged a glance before the two of them forced Ashe down.

"Nuh uh." Sylvain said, waving a finger in Ashe's face. "You aren't going there. You're infamous enough already."

Ashe swallowed as he sat down. "But. I, well, I don't remember any of it."

"Douglas has told us about where the body was dumped. That alone is enough for us." Felix said. "We don't care that you shot her full of arrows."

Douglas and Ashe exchanged a glance, the eyes of the latter widening.

"You didn't tell them?" Ashe asked, his voice stunned.

"Wait." Sylvain snarled as he turned to Douglas. "You're telling me that this guy lied to us?"

"What's this about a lie?" Douglas asked, arms firmly crossed against his chest. "I told you the truth. Ashe killed Catherine in single combat, and we dumped the carcass in the remnants of a burning house."

"How did she die?" Felix asked as Ingrid arrived.

"Arrow to the throat." Douglas said with a shrug. "Clean shot. She would have choked to death in minutes."

"Would have is an interesting set of words to use when describing such a thing." Sylvain observed as a stretcher was brought before the group.

"That's it." The soldier said, a finger pointed to the stretcher. "Took a bloody long time to get the armour off."

"That's enough." Ingrid said, silencing the man with a wave of her hand. "Once we're done here, there's a mass grave close to the camp. We'll leave the body there. No reason to give the Arsonist of Fhirdiad a full burial"

The soldier nodded as he waved the stretcher carriers away. "Should we give you privacy then?"

Ingrid nodded. "Please do."

* * *

"Spite?" Mortis asked as she slipped on the headphones that came with the radio, quietly hoping for a clean and quick call.

"Hello Mortis." The voice of her mentor greeted her from the other side of the radio. "I trust you have been well?"

"I'll cut to the chase." Mortis sighed. "Yurius is off on a wild goose chase with the three idiots."

"How so?" Spite asked.

"The gold. Turns out the treasury we were promised was empty. Someone robbed it while the three idiots were away."

"Ah." Spite said. "Then Yurius has offered to assist them with taking the gold back?"

"Yes." Mortis said. "Sounds like a fool's errand."

"Probably is." Spite replied. "Still, as I understand it, your idiot friends spent a great deal of your gold in the process of your journey."

"That's correct." Mortis said.

"Well, it would be rather strange to them if you forgave such a large debt overnight then." Spite reasoned.

Mortis sighed. "I guess you're right."

"Regardless, I'm sure you'll find some way to pass the time." Spite suggested.

"A long bath does sound nice." Mortis admitted after a long minute. "Hopefully the water isn't scalding hot."

"Yes, that first bath cleaning up after Cornelia was certainly something to remember." Spite said with a chuckle.

"It's a lot more work than Shambhala." Mortis grumbled, working to expunge the memory from her brain. "But yes, I've grown used to having a tub of hot water over the years."

"Bathing outside Shambhala can be a chore sometimes." Spite suggested casually. "Such primitive systems, burning wood for hot water."

Mortis laughed at the comment before a thought came up inside her head. "What happened to the traitors?"

"The lead traitor was turned on, I suspect by his peers." Spite said. "Six stab wounds. All of which could very well have been fatal."

"You aren't worried?" Mortis asked.

"No. I watched them do it after all." Spite said with a chuckle. "They were very considerate to let me watch the light fade from his eyes."

"Who was it?"

"Bunch of youngsters who weren't thinking straight." Spite replied. "They won't be a problem in the future, as far as I can tell. Their leader wasn't the sharpest weapon on the rack, nor a very well connected one. Regardless, not something worthy of concern on my end."

Mortis nodded as her stomach growled. "I'm going to head out then. Maybe find some food and a bath at a tavern."

"Very well then." Spite said, taking a moment before he continued. "How long do you believe you'll be delayed?"

"Yurius said one day. I told him I'm willing to wait for two days before I dump him."

"That's understandable. Delays happen." Spite said. "But be quick regardless, the less time you are out in Fodlan, the less chance you will be noticed by someone who is a threat to our operations."

"Of course." Mortis said. "I'll head for breakfast then."

"As you wish." Spite said. "Enjoy your free time while you can, you might not get much of it once you reach the trail of Thales."

* * *

"Ashe." Felix said with disgust in his voice.

"What the hell did you do?" Caspar blurted out. "Is that even human?"

"It's human alright." Sylvain muttered. "But that's even worse than anything Miklan did while on his rampage."

Ashe stood silently over the demolished carcass of Catherine, his eyes wide as he stared at the scene in horror.

"Ashe. What did you do?" Felix asked, his face growing pale. "Did you do this to her?"

"Enough." Ingrid snapped, silencing the three men. "We aren't going to get answers by shouting at him like this."

Douglas glanced at the men before he spoke. "Alright. Fine. What is it that you want to know?"

"Is that Catherine?" Caspar asked. "It barely looks human."

Douglas glanced at the body at his feet before he crouched down, his fingers reaching for the neck of the corpse.

"Isn't this an arrowhead?" Douglas asked as he tore a piece of metal from the charred flesh of the dead body. "Like we said, arrow to the throat."

Caspar looked pale. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"This body is burned. You don't want to deal with bodies that aren't." Douglas shot back in annoyance. "Trust me, Miklan couldn't even stand an open grave."

Sylvain narrowed his eyes. "And when did you have to deal with open graves with my brother?"

"Grave robbing." Douglas replied with a shrug. "People bury lots of shiny and useful things with their dead."

"That's enough from the two of you." Ingrid interjected. "We aren't here to fight over the past. We're here to bring closure to Fhirdiad. If you can't get that into your head, then get back to camp and leave us here to work."

"Alright." Sylvain said, glaring at the woman. "Fine. I'll stop. Happy?"

"I'm not." Ingrid shot back. "Now, tell us what happened that night."

"First of all, does Ashe know what happened that night?" Felix asked.

Douglas looked at Felix for a long moment. "No. Ashe doesn't remember much from that night."

"But you do." Felix said.

Douglas shrugged. "Miklan was very much willing to back up his threats with violence. I'm rather used to the bloodshed that would follow up his threats."

"Right." Ingrid said. "What happened that night?"

"Ashe, do you want to hear this?" Douglas asked, turning to the young man.

Ashe nodded. "I do. I have to know."

Douglas sighed. "When you sighted Catherine in the church, you entered a rage. None of us could get to you."

Ashe swallowed. "Did I fire the shot that killed Catherine?"

"It wasn't the shot that killed her per se." Douglas replied. "After you fired the shot, you personally charged Catherine."

"I- I _charged_ Catherine?" Ashe asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Douglas nodded with a sigh as he peeled away more of the cloth covering the dead woman, eventually coming to point at Catherine's injured knee. "You fired a shot into her knee first, then fired the killing shot into her throat when she couldn't fight back anymore."

"And then?" Ingrid asked, her face pale.

"He bludgeoned her." Douglas replied, raising both hands over his head to demonstrate. "Brought his bow into her face until the bow broke. Then used his hands to continue until he got too tired to continue."

Ashe had grown a deathly pale as Caspar took a slight step back, his face filled with horror and disgust.

"But- but why?" Caspar spluttered at last.

"Caspar, what did Catherine do to Ashe over the years?" Douglas asked, turning to the younger man. "You saw it firsthand. You know better than all of us."

"Wha?" Caspar asked. "The only time I saw Catherine with Ashe was with- oh."

"Lonato." Sylvain concluded, understanding dawning on his face.

"And why did Lord Lonato conduct his rebellion?" Douglas asked in turn, turning his gaze to Sylvain.

"Christophe." Sylvain replied. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

Felix grimaced and gritted his teeth in discomfort. "Sylvain, you never heard about what happened between Christophe and Catherine?"

Sylvain blinked at the words of his friend. "No. What am I missing?"

"Catherine personally turned Christophe in for execution."

Sylvain turned to Ashe before his gaze fell on the battered corpse of Catherine. "Oh."

"Moving on." Douglas continued. "Caspar, did Catherine not slaughter her way through Lonato's forces?"

"Yeah." Caspar said. "She didn't hold back. Just hacked right through- ah."

"The people Ashe had grown up around, those who he must have known every day of his life." Douglas finished.

Caspar swallowed but failed to answer, his gaze turned to the battered body lying before him.

"So let me ask you this." Douglas snarled. "Who is it that Ashe had every right to hate in Fodlan?"

The air fell silent as one set of eyes after another fell upon the lifeless corpse on the ground, until only Douglas didn't have his eyes upon the lifeless body.

"Generals!" A voice shouted, breaking through the silence. "There's trouble!"

"What's going on?" Sylvain said as he turned around, coming face to face with the soldier.

The man paused as he stopped his run, his face a bright red. "Duscarians."

"There's another riot brewing?" Felix snapped, rising to his feet, hand at his sword.

"There's an army to the west of our camp. They're demanding to see whoever is in charge." The messenger explained. "Our scouts estimate a core group of potentially over one hundred calvary."

"Did they say why?" Sylvain said.

"No." The man said. "They just want to talk, or so they claim."

"I'll go." Ingrid said, rising from her position crouched next to the body.

"Nuh uh." Sylvain said, firmly putting a restraining hand on Ingrid's shoulder. "I saw how you avoided Dedue like the plague, even when the guy didn't do anything. You won't be of any help. Stay here."

"I'll go too." Felix said. "Caspar, go to the camp, rally any soldiers you can. If this gets ugly, we'll need any support we can get."

"Should I go too?" Douglas asked, his face serious.

Felix paused before he nodded. "If Ashe doesn't need you then you're free to come with us."

"Douglas." Ashe whispered.

"Yes?" The man asked as he turned to the man still looking at the corpse of the dead woman.

"Go with them." Ashe commanded. "I want to be alone."

"No." Douglas said firmly. "You aren't going to be alone."

"I'll be with him." Ingrid replied as she sat next to Ashe. "The three of you go ahead."

* * *

The light of the early day had barely come over the horizon before the portal to Zaharas opened, leaving a gash into the darkness open for the group to spill out.

"It is good to be back in the game." Aranea said as she stepped forward from the portal, a half dozen lesser Shambhalan soldiers ready to greet the party.

"That it is." Chilon said, nodding at the party. "Has there been any news from Bias?"

The lead soldier flinched and took a step back as the rest of the dark convoy left the shadows, the still living body of the last condemned remaining broken in the darkness.

"He asked you a question." Thales said quietly. "Speak."

"Three members of Pittacus' warband arrived this morning. She fell in combat against the Lord of the Lake. Their group was slaughtered while on the retreat."

Thales nodded. "So be it. She will be replaced. Aranea."

"My Lord?" The woman asked, turning to the leader of Shambhala.

"Forget the name Aranea or Cornelia, for you have ascended common lies. You are now one of the Septet. You will take the name of Pittacus. There is much work to be done."

"And what of Bias?" Chilon asked, his voice hard.

"A message came through while you were away." The lead soldier stammered. "The Wind Caller had challenged Bias in single combat."

"And?" Chilon asked, furious.

"She was slaughtered. Her forces were slaughtered to the last man."

"If they were all dead, then how did the message come through?" Chilon asked, furious.

"We believe it must have been the Wind Caller himself." The soldier explained. "He- he said that-"

"He said what?" Solon barked.

"He said that he would be coming for us."

* * *

**AN: **Dundundun. Chapter 20 done.

Slight revision for my timeline (at least relating to Ashen Wolves): The first chapters where the Ashen Wolves will appear will be pushed back to the 24-25th chapters. This was previously promised in chapters 21-22

Read, Review, Follow, etc.

**Next Chapter**

Where demons hide.

When in doubt, use violence.

Highway robbery.

Bath time.

Legion of the damned.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Sleepless Watcher.

* * *

Mortis frowned as she stood at the centre of the lobby within the shabby tavern, one eye keeping a close watch over her trunk, the other slowly going over the barren features of the lobby.

"Room?" A hoarse voice asked, catching her attention.

"Correct," Mortis repeated. "One bed."

The man behind the counter grinned, revealing several filthy teeth in the process. "The only room available is for two."

"Why is that?" Mortis asked, incredulous. "Are there many lone travellers this time of the year?"

"No sweetie. The girls last night said that you would be with a boy."

"Oh?" Mortis asked. "And they described me in detail?"

"They were accurate, too," the innkeeper said with a smirk. "Arrogant. Dressed like a boy. Why don't you wear a dress darling? You have such a good figure."

"My partner will not be joining me for at least one night. Unless there's some sort of discount for two nights in a double room, I don't want it."

"Why so hostile, dear? Surely they are friends of yours."

"They aren't," Mortis snapped. "One is a spendthrift hanger-on, and the other is a pathetic little cur unworthy of my time."

"So bitter. Stop frowning. You'll get wrinkles."

"I. Don't. Care." Mortis snarled. "Get me a single room before I head to the tavern on the other side of the river."

"You won't get there before someone gets that little trunk of yours. Bandits have been everywhere these days, and Duke Gloucester doesn't take crying girls well."

"Is that so?" Mortis asked, lighting a orb of fire in her hand. "Will he console their crying mothers when I burn their sons to ash?"

The innkeeper flinched at the fire that came dangerously close to the ceiling. "A mage?"

"Will he take it well when you claim to him that a single mage torched your entire hovel with you still inside of it? Will he even believe you or care?"

The man took a step back as he reached behind the counter. "Let's not be hasty here. Your quarrel is with the girls upstairs."

"Correct. And by annoying me, you have made yourself my enemy," Mortis said. "What measure of recompense do I get for my time? Why should I step back from violence? It's not as if I have a good reason."

The man flinched as he tossed a key to the floor. "Second door to the left. Just take it."

"Throw in a bath. With hot water."

"Right away," he stammered. "Hot water, towels, the whole experience."

Mortis sneered as she turned away from the whimpering coward behind the flimsy counter.

* * *

The town was bustling even as Indech moved to stretch his legs as he stepped away from the carriage.

"I suppose we'll part ways here." Indech said as he gently laid the injured man over his shoulder, turning back to shake the hands of his travel partners.

"Are you sure?" The man asked, his face concerned. "I mean, I'm not sure that you have enough money to find a place to stay."

Indech laughed and shook his head in turn. "I have a sister in town. She'll be able to help me."

The woman nodded as she exchanged a glance with the man. "Regardless, thank you for helping us along."

Indech shared her nod. "I wish you safe travels regardless."

The man nodded as he turned away, the woman waving gently before she turned back to her husband.

* * *

"Are we all packed up?" Chilon asked as he nodded in the direction of his forces, meeting three pairs of eyes in turn.

"Thales ordered that we destroy some of our less important equipment to make evacuation faster." The lead soldier offered in response.

Chilon nodded. "What did he order destroyed?"

"Some lower end crafting materials, less valuable coins, armour. Heavy junk."

Chilon nodded as he watched the outpost they had hid in catch fire, a single soldier hurrying out as flames engulfed the building.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Chilon barked at the man as he stormed forward, a hand holding the surprised man in place.

"Sir," The man stammered. "I can explain."

"That house was on fire and you didn't evacuate from it. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

The man shook his head. "I forgot something inside."

Chilon scoffed. "And it was important enough to risk being reduced to cinders?"

The man grimaced as he took a small step back. "Ah, well. I think it's important."

Chilon swore as he waved the convoy of soldiers forward, the group marching toward the rest of the camp as Chilon and the soldier moved forward.

"Show me this something," Chilon snarled. "I want to make sure it's actually important or I'll give you latrine duty for a month."

The man glanced at the roaring inferno behind him before he slipped out a dagger from the folds of his clothes.

"An Athame knock off?" Chilon asked, disappointment evident in his voice. "You almost turned yourself into barbeque for an _Athame knock off?"_

The soldier winced as the convoy before them turned to watch the show.

"I think it might be an original." The man stammered. "I mean, I found it in the forest at-"

"Enough." Chilon snarled. "There are only three original Athames, and they are all accounted for."

"But what if the third wasn't destroyed?"

"You want to cause Spite grief at a time like this?" Chilon asked, turning his gaze to the unfortunate man. "You want to haunt him with the death of his sister?"

"I-" the man replied, his hands raised as if to shield his face. "I wasn't thinking straight."

"Yes." Chilon said as he slipped the dagger into the folds of his uniform. "That much seems obvious."

"Shall we continue?" The lead soldier in the convoy asked, taking to steps closer to the pair.

"One moment," Chilon replied, turning to survey the six men before him. "Each of you, take one package and hand it to this worm. He's not carrying anything"

"Wha?" The man asked, his face stunned.

"You wasted my time, you almost got yourself burnt to a crisp, and you held up your unit. All for a damn fake Athame."

"It's not fake!" The man protested.

Chilon growled as he launched a vicious kick, knocking the man's legs from under him. "You're getting latrine duty once you get back to Shambhala."

"What items should we give him?" One of the soldiers asked. "Something light?"

"Preferably heavy and useless." Chilon spat. "Not unlike him."

One of the soldiers snorted at the joke. "That's a funny one."

"Save it for later," Myson said as he approached the group, nodding to Chilon as he passed. "Portal is opening as we speak."

"We're leaving?" Chilon asked.

"That's right," Myson replied. "Aranea-erm, Pittacus is taking care of opening the portal this time."

"Do we wait for Spite before we discuss our current situation?" Chilon asked. "Regarding the scions of Seiros?"

"Yes, that is correct," Thales said as he arrived behind Myson. "We will discuss this matter when we return to Shambhala and meet with Periander. And not a moment sooner."

"Portal is open!" A voice shouted as the group began to surge into the darkness of Zaharas.

"Come," Thales said. "Let us depart for Shambhala."

* * *

"So how far is this village of yours?" Yurius asked as he hurried toward the trio standing at the edge of the bridge, face concerned as he slowed down before the group.

"It's not that far actually," Lorenz replied. "It's about three farmer's fields away from here. We should be able to walk there without many issues."

"Good. Mortis is not enjoying having to wait."

Leonie turned her head at the words. "She lost a king's ransom in paying for everything along the way, and she just wants to let it all go?"

"Let me rephrase that," Yurius explained as he took a deep breath. "Mortis thought the gold would be ready practically upon arrival. She didn't think it would take two or three days for it to come to us."

"I suppose you are right about that," Lorenz replied. "Still, with the aid of my father, I think we should be able to recover at least some of the gold today."

"Why do you think they did it?" Yurius asked. "Why would they steal the gold from the empire?"

Lorenz shook his head. "I cannot tell you that. I don't know myself. But it is greatly ignoble for soldiers under my father's employ to harm civilians, especially if there can be a peaceful resolution afterwards."

Yurius nodded as he turned away. "I'm glad we didn't bring Mortis then. She doesn't particularly care if someone has to die to accomplish her goals."

"Why is that?" Ignatz asked. "That sounds horrifying."

"Might makes right for her," Yurius explained. "Might and fear."

"She sounds like Hubert doesn't she?" Leonie offered. "Didn't you mention that she met him before?"

"That's right, is she related to Hubert in any way?" Lorenz said. "How did you meet?"

"Hubert contracted us for work," Yurius admitted. "Me and Mortis were sent to ah, assist him."

"I don't want to know about what you did, do I?" Leonie asked.

"Best that you didn't." Yurius muttered as he turned his gaze back to the road.

* * *

"You've done enough." Ingrid said as she looked at the small grave meant for the blackened armour of Catherine.

"Is it deep enough?" Ashe asked as he stood, wiping a sheen of sweat from his brow.

"It is." Ingrid said as she took what might have been a gauntlet from the pile of blackened steel. "Nobody will disturb it for a thousand years at this rate."

"Ingrid?" Ashe asked, his tone halting and fearful. "Am- am I a monster?"

Ingrid felt a flash of emotion fly through her body, her face hardening as a second flash of emotion flew through her core.

"When Douglas mentioned that everyone had darkness inside of them," Ingrid started. "Was he talking about this?"

Ashe swallowed at the words, but nodded regardless. "He watched me bludgeon Catherine to death. He- he had to mean that...right?"

"When- when I heard about Glenn, I wanted to do that too," Ingrid admitted after a long moment, her fingers absentmindedly brushing away soot from the armour plate in her hands. "I wanted to burn Duscar to the ground. To slaughter every last one of his murderers with my bare hands."

"But you didn't do that." Ashe said, standing wide-eyed before her. "You never said anything. Not to us, not to Dedue."

"And yet Dedue was the one to stand with Dimitri. Right to the bitter end," Ingrid said, her eyes meeting Ashe's eyes. "He was more loyal to Dimitri than any of us."

Ashe swallowed when he heard the words. "I- I wonder if there was something we could have done to stop him, to show him the truth of the Church."

Ingrid swallowed as she looked down on the battered plate of armour still in her hands, the unmistakable image of the white dragon visible despite the damage done to the plate.

"When I was a girl, I always wondered what the dragon was supposed to represent. I never thought it could be that- thing."

"Ingrid?" Ashe asked, his voice uncertain. "Were you there to see- well, the Umbral Beast?"

"The one you took down with the Ashen Wolves?" Ingrid asked, her voice filled with surprise. "No, I can't say that I did. Rhea had it burned away, didn't she?"

Ashe swallowed. "It- it's too similar to the Immaculate One. Not as large, but still a monster nonetheless."

Ingrid nodded before she placed the first armour plate into the hole.

Ashe slowed for a moment before taking a piece of the armour away from the pile, handing it to Ingrid.

"When this is all over," Ingrid said. "I want to ask Seteth about all of it."

"Seteth?" Ashe replied, his voice full of surprise.

"Well, Cichol," Ingrid admitted after a moment, taking another plate from Ashe as she spoke. "Perhaps he could have provided some sort of insight on everything."

"But where did he go?" Ashe asked. "It's not like we know where he is."

Ingrid shook her head as she placed the last piece of charred armour within the grave. "That's why I said when it's all over. Then perhaps we can ask him for the truth. Perhaps then we could go to find him, wherever he's chosen to hide with Flayn- erm."

"When it's all over," Ashe said, as if trying to convince himself of the words. "Can I get you to promise that we'll find the truth when that time comes?"

Ingrid closed her eyes before she answered. "But of course."

* * *

"Not much further now, my friend," Indech assured his companion as he turned away from the sun.

The man over his shoulder groaned in response, his eyes taking a long moment to open.

"Where- where are we?" Gilbert asked, grimacing at the burning sun.

"We'll be in Garreg Mach soon." Indech replied. "Still, this town is very different from when I was last here."

"Garreg- Mach?" Gilbert asked, his voice taking a long moment to recover between the words. "Why?"

Indech frowned as he pulled the heavy man into a side entrance, resting him at the foot of a statue. "My sister will be in the town. Now, be good and stay here, I'll be back with help soon."

* * *

"You are the ambassador?" The rider asked Sylvain as he stepped forward, the two men sizing one another.

"I am Sylvain Jose Gautier, General of the Imperial Army."

The rider nodded as he dismounted. "Very well. Many of our people have told us that the cruel kingdom has fallen, and we wish to see it burn with our own eyes."

"You're late," Douglas replied. "The capital has been torched for weeks."

The man nodded as he turned to survey the charred city in the distance. "Regardless, this is merely a message to your people."

"Message?" Sylvain asked.

"We will no longer accept the occupation of our territory as it has been," The rider explained. "The agreements Rufus came to are null and void."

"We don't want Duscar," Felix observed. "There's not enough there to warrant an army keeping watch."

"Good," The rider replied. "So long as your emperor understands that, we will have no problems. Where is he?"

"The emperor is not here. She left for the imperial capital not long after the capital fell." Sylvain replied.

The rider nodded as his tips turned into a frown. "I will inform my people of this development. If there is nothing else we need to talk about, then I'll inform you of their decision by nightfall."

Felix nodded. "Alright then. We'll station a guard here to ensure that you'll be able to get a message to us no matter the time of day."

"Very well then," The rider said as he mounted his horse again. "We shall speak soon."

* * *

"Welcome to our humble washer shop." The woman behind the counter said with a large grin. "How may we help you?"

"Two shirts and riding pants." Mortis replied, her face turning to disgust at the sight of the fat woman.

"That's alright darling. Sixty gold."

Mortis turned her head to watch the woman, her lips curling into rage at the words. "I've already dealt with one set of highway robbers so far."

The woman puffed her chest out in rage. "Are you saying that my prices aren't reasonable?"

"Yes." Mortis replied. "That would be a fair price if I had sent you two times the laundry and demanded it done by daybreak. I'm not demanding that. Fifteen gold. Take it or leave it."

The woman growled. "Pay sixty or there will be trouble!"

"Go to hell." Mortis muttered as she turned on her heel, storming from the store as the woman behind her fumed.

* * *

The assassin paused as he slid behind a stall at the small fishmongers market, watching his target as he slowly bit into the out of season apple he had plucked.

"Fish! Fresh fish!" A man shouted far too close to his ear, practically deafening him.

The assassin took a glance at the man's fish, reeking in the hot sun despite the cold water that had been poured over them many times over.

"Fresh fish my ass," his partner whispered to him in Dagdan. "Place stinks like a mass grave."

The assassin was going to agree with his partner before he noticed his target shifting away, as if he was intending to flee through Enbarr's more shady alleyways.

"How long have we been stalking this guy again?"

"Too long," the assassin replied. "But orders are orders. Hawthorne ordered a public execution, he's getting one."

A loud shout came from behind them, the unmistakable ship that the condemned would be thrown from when the time came slowly moving into a slot on the harbour.

"Alright then, showtime." The assassin said with a grin.

"Yeah yeah, we get to break a few bones, but no killing him. I actually listen to briefings remember?"

"That's not the point," the assassin replied, his face turning to a frown as he looked away from his partner.

"Wha?"

"The other guys are beating the tar out of him. Too fast of a death. We're supposed to drown his miserable hide, not beat him to death."

The other assassin glanced at the half dozen figures towering over their target, the crowd growing larger by the minute. "Hey, those aren't our guys! What the hell are they doing?"

"There's more of them too," the assassin muttered. "We're not going to get to him alive at this point."

"Not to worry," Hawthorne said as both assassins spun around, staring at the aged crime lord. "I apologize for not informing you sooner."

"What's going on?"

"I asked around if there was anyone interested in taking a pound of flesh from him." Hawthorne explained, a small smirk turning the corners of his lips up.

"And what was the result of that?" The second assassin asked.

"He cheats at cards. I informed the town guard of his presence and they've spread the word."

"So he's not going to be drowned to death?" The second assassin asked.

"No. He's not," Hawthorne replied. "Still, the coffin will be useful for disposing of the body."

* * *

Mortis sighed as she slipped into th_e_ warm bath, closing her eyes and relaxing for the first time since leaving Spite's office so many days prior.

"Is she- asleep in there?" A voice asked, breaking her moment of silence.

Mortis remained still in the tub, her eyes opening tiny slits as she observed the two girls sneaking into the room.

"Oh thank Seiros she's fallen asleep in the tub," Maya said as she glanced over. "Come on, let's grab her purse and go shopping."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Evi squeaked in protest. "I mean, what if she notices us?"

"She's asleep and you need more than two sets of clothes. Heck, she has three! And that's just her travelling on the road!"

"She'll be angry if she finds out though, can't we find something else to do while we're here? Something that doesn't involve stealing from Mortis?"

"She won't find out," Maya promised, laughing as she walked over to the pile of clothes next to the bathtub. "Come on. We'll be able to buy lunch, dinner, and all sorts of cute things!"

"I- I just said I wanted a new pair of shoes!" Evi protested. "Couldn't we just take a few coins and explain it to her?"

"You have any idea how embarrassing it is for her to not pay for us? Friends are supposed to do that for friends!"

"We aren't friends though," Evi protested.

"Then why were you in a carriage with them?" Maya asked. "Why were you next to them at the campfire when we found you?"

"Well I-" Evi replied. "I- erm."

"Are the two of you done yelling?" Mortis asked. "I'm quite done with you shouting at me."

"Eeeek!" Evi shrieked. "She heard us! She heard us!"

"Yes, I heard you," Mortis sneered. "Now settle down before I get a headache."

"Did you tell the front desk that you weren't paying for our room?" Maya shouted.

"Yes," Mortis shot back, her eyes turning to glare at the blonde girl. "That is correct. I did just that. And no, I'm not paying for your room."

"Why not? Aren't we friends?" Maya asked. "We did so much for you! A room doesn't cost that much!"

Mortis sighed as she rose from the bath, water spilling from her head. "Evi, why don't you tell Maya about your precious brother? You were so devoted to him before. Surely you have a lot of stories to tell."

"You have a brother?" Maya asked, turning to Evi. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Had," Mortis replied with a sadistic smile. "I killed him."

"You WHAT?" Maya shouted, turning back to Mortis, shock on her face.

Evi spun around, her face fearful as Maya seized her arm.

"Evi! What's gotten into you?"

Evi didn't answer, tearing her arm free as she fled from the room.

"Mortis! What the hell was that about?" Maya asked.

"Ask her." Mortis snorted as she sunk back into the bath, her eyes closed as she watched Maya chase the fleeing form of Evi.

* * *

"We'll be out of the ravine soon." Shamir offered as the carriage slowed to allow the woman to speak.

"Is the area ahead empty?" Hubert asked. "We went all this way to avoid detection."

"It is," Shamir replied. "We'll make good time to Fort Merceus."

"Good," Hubert replied. "So long as we reach Fort Merceus before the sun sets, we'll avoid having to sleep in the carriage again."

"Is there a reason you want to avoid that?" Edelgard asked, looking at Hubert strangely.

"Bernadetta used my lap as a pillow," Hubert explained with a sigh. "It made sleep rather difficult at night."

"I see that you're much more gentle around Bernadetta," Byleth observed. "You've changed like that."

"Don't remind me," Hubert said with a shake of the head. "She began screaming in terror in the morning when she woke up."

Byleth winced. "Did she wake you?"

Hubert gave Byleth a look of exasperation. "Yes, she did."

"Why don't you take a nap now Hubert? The road appears to be clear." Edelgard offered.

"Lady Edelgard, I will never fall asleep in your presence." Hubert promised.

"Very well then," Edelgard said. "I order you to sleep."

Hubert opened his mouth to protest.

"You heard her," Byleth said firmly. "Close your eyes and sleep."

Hubert swallowed before he squeezed his eyes.

"This is humiliating." Hubert admitted after a long minute.

Byleth and Edelgard remained silent.

When Shamir came back, Hubert had long since fallen asleep.

* * *

"Hello son," Count Gloucester said evenly as Lorenz stepped into his office. "I see that you have brought your friends here. Please, sit down and have some tea."

Lorenz glanced at the forms of his three companions, before his father gestured to a set of chairs before him.

"Please, allow me to serve tea for you and your friends, I trust you have travelled a great deal."

"I understand father, but I'm afraid this is not a personal visit."

"First refreshments, then we can talk about your needs here." Count Gloucester

Lorenz nodded before he glanced at Yurius, still fidgeting at the door.

"Relax, I know that Mortis is worried for you, but father is big on tradition."

Yurius nodded as he took a seat in the chair closest to the door, settling his hands in his lap.

"Tea and refreshments. Excellent." Count Gloucester said, nodding to a maid as a small table was moved forward toward his four guests.

"Father, I do apologize, but we are in a hurry. Yurius here is very busy, and his partner has been quite impatient."

"The good things in life require time, my son." Count Gloucester replied as he moved to join the group, smiling as a set of warm pastries were set before the group.

Lorenz nodded finally, "Yes father, of course, but for them, time is of the essence."

"Is there a reason you are so busy?" Count Gloucester asked. "Surely, with the war over, you can afford to take a breath, perhaps come home for some time."

Ignatz swallowed while Leonie shifted her gaze to Lorenz.

"Father, there is another- how should I say this?"

"There is another enemy out there that we need to confront," Ignatz blurted out.

There was a flicker of light in the eyes of Count Gloucester, but the man nodded. "Is my help required? Is that why you have returned home?"

Lorenz swallowed as he glanced at Yurius, "Not quite, father. While on our trip here, I was forced to borrow a great deal of money from Yurius and his partner Mortis, both of whom I need to pay back quickly."

"Why is that?" Count Gloucester asked, his eyes finding those of Yurius.

"We're parting ways very soon," Yurius replied, his eyes shifting to the other three before he turned back to the count. "My partner is very impatient about the delay."

"Ah," Count Gloucester replied. "Is this in relation to the gold that was taken from the vaults?"

Lorenz nodded. "Indeed father, it is."

Count Gloucester sighed as he sank back into his chair, his eyes watching those of his son.

"My lord?" The voice at the door asked. "Is it a good time?"

"Please set the table." Count Gloucester replied without taking his eyes off Lorenz.

"Of course," the maid replied, warmly smiling at the sight of Lorenz. "Welcome back, master Lorenz."

"Carla, it's good to see you again," Lorenz replied. "I trust your tea is still delicious as ever?"

The maid chuckled in response as she moved to pour tea.

"Thank you Carla, that will be all," Count Gloucester said as the maid placed the tea jug on the table. "We can pour tea on our own terms."

"If you should ever need anything-"

"No Carla, this should be sufficient," Count Gloucester replied. "We shall not want for more."

The maid nodded as she stepped away with a slight bow.

"Back to the matter at hand then." Yurius said as he glanced around the table, his fingers drumming against the armrests of his seat.

"Do take a sip of your tea please." Count Gloucester replied with a small glare.

Yurius paused at the words, his eyes narrowing as he took a slow sip.

"Father, is this a practical joke?" Lorenz asked, his face scrunched in horror. "How long have you been drinking this abomination you call tea?"

Count Gloucester turned to glare at his son in turn. "And you think this hasn't been happening all across Fodlan over this war?"

Yurius grimaced at the so called tea before he put his cup back down on the table. "Count Gloucester, we really must be going. Is there a location with gold anywhere?"

Count Gloucester turned to his son quietly as he closed his eyes. "There is a particular issue regarding the gold."

"Is something wrong?" Lorenz asked. "Is there a bandit gang somewhere?"

Count Gloucester turned and grimaced at the words. "No. This is not an issue about bandits."

"Father, why did the villagers take the gold?" Lorenz asked. "I'm glad the situation did not end in bloodshed, but why did they see such a need to loot the town?"

"It's a difficult story," Count Gloucester replied. "But the villagers who have worked on our farms have had a great deal of difficulty of late, particularly with the imperial decree that demobilized most of the conscripts."

"I believe the emperor herself signed that," Lorenz said. "Why is this such a problem?"

"Because we do not have the food supplies to feed them," Count Gloucester replied. "While our workforce has returned, the imperial tithe has not eased, and more workers mean more mouths to feed."

Lorenz opened his mouth to protest, mere seconds before his father raised a hand to stop him,

"Lorenz, please, let me finish," Count Gloucester replied. "A few days ago, there were rumours that a number of black market merchants were attempting to sell foodstuffs to peasants at exorbitant rates."

"Are the stories true?" Ignatz asked.

"I cannot confirm the truth of the stories, but it is certainly possible that some unscrupulous merchants or quartermasters in the empire may have supplies they are willing to barter for a fortune in gold."

"That's evil." Yurius replied, his voice hard.

"It's disgusting and unacceptable behaviour, especially at a time like this." Count Gloucester replied.

"So what do we do about them?" Lorenz asked, turning his eyes to his companions. "Can we find them and bring them down?"

Count Gloucester frowned. "Son, I'm not sure what you mean by that."

"Father, my companions here can hold their own in a fight, if we can find them when they're trading for goods, we can seize their possessions for the farmers and bring them before the emperor in chains."

Count Gloucester nodded in response, his lips pursing as he set his tea down onto the table.

"Very well then," Count Gloucester said at last. "There is to be an exchange on the edge of our territory tonight."

"Of course," Lorenz said with a smile. "I will go."

"No, you are too recognizable as my son." Count Gloucester said in turn. "Your presence will alert them that you are onto them."

"He's right," Leonie pointed out. "This is your land after all. Everyone here knows who you are."

"Where is this meeting being held?" Yurius asked, his face serious. "And should I bring my partner in as well? She could provide additional support."

"Mortis would just screw everything up," Leonie scoffed. "Don't like the idea of her throwing fireballs around all that much."

Count Gloucester nodded. "I have no doubt your friend would be capable, but I can simply bring some of my house guard to act as support. And if it is true that your friend is a mage capable of wielding fire, then it will be too risky to have her close to dry food supplies."

"Will you come with us?" Ignatz asked, his tea settled upon the table.

"I will arrive once the food is safely in the hands of my people. I want to know just who is behind this crime at such a dark hour for our people."

Yurius nodded as Leonie rose to her feet, the table pausing as she grinned.

"Should we get into position now?" Ignatz asked, glancing at Leonie.

"No, that would not be a wise idea," Count Gloucester replied. "There's a great risk that they will suspect an ambush and move to either flee with their goods or attempt to destroy the goods."

"So when do we go?" Yurius asked. "Mortis might abandon me outright if I take too long."

Lorenz raised an eyebrow. "Even forsaking all the gold she's owed in the process?"

Yurius shrugged. "It was a threat that she uttered. Two days with no sign of me and she'll leave town."

"Come nightfall, when the heat has largely dissipated, there will be a convoy going to the location with the gold you seek." Count Gloucester interjected.

"Once we grab the ringleaders, I'll split you some of the gold that you're owned, and you can get back to Mortis." Lorenz promised.

"Oh no." Ignatz groaned.

"What's wrong?" Lorenz asked.

"Maya and Evi have probably spent all of Mortis' gold by now."

Lorenz sighed as he buried his face in his hands, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Right. I probably should get you some extra for what the girls have spent while our backs were turned."

* * *

The summer heat gnawed at Flayn as she threw yet another worm into the water.

"I'll catch a delicious fish." Flayn repeated to herself, her eyes glancing at the the empty fish pail sitting next to her as she waited for a bite underwater.

"Oh mother, how could you do this for so long?"

Even as Flayn complained, she felt a tug and began to reel the fish in, her arms clinging to the rod for dear life as the fish fought against her.

"Get- in here!" Flayn shouted as the fish pulled her line taut, her face straining with effort as she was suddenly pulled forward.

Her voice failed her as the fish promptly dragged her into the water.

* * *

Indech flinched when his niece disappeared under the waves, his jaw falling for a moment before he followed her below the water.

The water was cold and refreshing, a stark contrast to the heat of the midsummer day.

The smaller form of his niece was fleeting, sinking ever deeper in the clear waters.

A moment of panic sprung through the form of Indech. _Had he scared his niece? Was she embarrassed at not being able to catch fish?_

A roar filled his ears as he watched the form of his brother enter the water, his face a mix of rage and panic.

For a moment, their eyes met, and Indech watched his brother's eyes widen in shock as his jaw dropped.

Then a burst of air bubbles covered Cichol's face, and the man was forced to surface.

Indech in turn pushed himself deeper, chasing the stream of bubbles that lead to Cethleann.

She had almost reached the bottom of the water area, filled with far more broken fishing hooks, reels, and rubbish than Indech had ever seen.

Her eyes were still open when she saw his face, the whites of her eyes widening ever more as Indech wrapped his arms around her.

He surfaced quickly, his strong legs forcing the water to bend to his will.

At the surface, he took a long gasp of air as Cethleann coughed in his arms.

"Stop!" A voice shouted. "That's my brother!"

Indech glanced over his shoulder, nearly having his eye stabbed out by a spear in the process.

A half dozen men and women crowded the dock behind him, each pointing a weapon at him.

"For the last time, stop!" Cichol pleaded as he was hauled from the water.

"Where's Flayn?" A voice roared from behind the crowd, the question becoming ever louder as several of the soldiers at the harbour turned, their faces filled with horror as they realized that they were in the way.

Then a hulking blonde monster rammed into the crowd, sending no less than three bodies sprawling into the water.

"Please. Stop." Cichol pleaded. "That's my brother. He's friendly."

In response to the words, the blonde monster grinned, reaching an arm low.

"Take Cethleann first, would you?" Indech said as he positioned his niece before him.

"Let's get you dried up ok?" An orange haired woman asked Cethleann as she was hauled from the water. "Mercie! Let's not let Flayn catch a cold!"

"Are you alright?" Cichol asked as Indech pulled himself from the water.

"I apologize for startling all of you," Indech replied as he shook the water from his hair. "Will Cethleann be alright?"

Cichol winced. "I'm sure she'll be overjoyed to see you, but please, my name is Seteth."

Indech blinked at his brother. "Cichol, are you sure you're alright? Where is our sister?"

Cichol exchanged a nervous glance with a green haired man off to the side. "Linhardt, is there somewhere we can talk? Preferably in private."

"Of course. Our medical wing is empty with the exception of Hilda." Linhardt replied, taking a long moment to stare at Indech before he shook his head.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Indech said. "I came here with a wounded soldier. He's going to require medical attention."

"Where is this man?" Cichol asked.

"I left him by the western entrance. He's probably going to need a great deal of healing."

"Mercedes?" Cichol asked, turning to the tall woman.

"I'll see to it." The woman named Mercedes said firmly as a heavy blanket was wrapped around Indech.

Indech nodded to the blonde giant as the three men who had been bowled into the water climbed out, one laughing, two shaking their heads in disbelief as they glanced at him.

"Come along now." Cichol said with a slight shake of the head, his usually sophisticated demeanor compromised by the fact that he resembled a drowned rat.

* * *

"So what have we learned today?" Ingrid asked the men at the dining table as they devoured a late lunch.

"The Duscarians are friendly," Sylvain said. "They're looking to work out an agreement with Edelgard to respect their territory."

"I trust the burial went off well?" Douglas asked from the corner of the tent.

"It's just another part of Fhirdiad's long history now." Ingrid confirmed.

"Do any of you have plans for the afternoon?" Felix asked.

"Nope." Sylvain said in turn.

"None at all." Ingrid said, Ashe nodding absentmindedly beside her.

"Nope." Caspar said with a mouth of bread.

"Caspar, do finish your food before talking." Ingrid chided.

"Sorry," Caspar said as he downed his food. "Anyhow, no I've got nothing in the afternoon."

"When are we going to deal with our prisoner?" Felix asked.

"Oh right. I forgot about that." Caspar said.

"I think we all did," Ingrid admitted. "Do we have an ideal time or place?"

"Or questions too." Douglas piqued up.

"We'll need all three before we start." Sylvain said.

"Then let's get started then." Ingrid said, her appetite lost.

* * *

**AN: **Chapter 21 done. Still, it's not a _particularly _interesting chapter. Think of it as intermission to buy hot dogs or popcorn. The next chapter should be a great deal more interesting, as it's the end of the second arc.

**Next Time: **

Reality Ensures

Awkward family reunions

The many uses of Athame

Introducing the Ashen Wolves

Ferdinand is fine


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Enemy Within.

* * *

Spite sighed as he flipped through his personal set of notes again, having memorized the results by heart.

The sun had begun to fall in Shambhala, a slight wind rushing against the canyon walls. It would only be a matter of time before the sun would disappear under the distant horizon.

Spite took one last look at the sky before he turned back to the deserted Machine Hall.

* * *

"Are we ready to go?" Yurius asked as he glanced at the orange pink sun in the distance, his eyes turning to find a figure hurrying from a nearby farmhouse.

Count Gloucester glanced at Lorenz before turning to Yurius. "Go around a field. It's potentially dangerous if you are caught leaving my home."

"Why is that?" Leonie asked, turning to the Count.

"Because there is a great risk that you will be seen by others. I do not know if there are spies or scouts watching my home."

Yurius frowned, but nodded. "Leonie, Ignatz?"

"Right, let's go," Leonie said. "Where's the site?"

"Plaza of the Elders." Count Gloucester replied.

"It's up north," Lorenz explained, a frown spreading across his face.

"Follow the crowds," Count Gloucester said. "They aren't going to go anywhere else at this hour."

"Alright then, we'll be off," Ignatz said, hurrying after the two before him.

Count Gloucester paused as he watched the door close, his eyes turning to the back of his son.

"Lorenz?"

"Yes father?" Lorenz asked as he turned around. "Is something wrong?"

"I need to speak to you about something."

* * *

"Spite?" Mortis asked into the microphone.

"Hello Mortis." Spite replied, his tone even as Mortis made to slightly adjust the volume.

"I have a question, if it's alright."

"So long as it can assist with your mission, I'll be pleased to help as much as I can."

"Just why were the Ashen Wolves so dangerous to you?" Mortis asked, unwittingly holding her breath as she waited for an answer.

"Each one of the members has a direct or indirect connection to Shambhala or my own family." Spite admitted after a long minute, his voice finally allowing Mortis to let go of the breath she had been holding.

"Direct?" Mortis asked, her voice low.

"Mostly indirect." Spite replied.

"What do you mean by that?" Mortis asked.

"Every member of the Ashen Wolves has at least had a limited amount of interaction with me or Aranea." Spite replied, his tone serious.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." Mortis interjected.

"No," Spite said, his voice having hardened.

"I'm sorry if I brought up something-"

"Mortis, enough. You deserve to know the full truth."

Mortis swallowed as Spite let out a long sigh, her attention taken fully by the voice on the other end of the machine.

"I hired their leader to punish a certain individual." Spite admitted after a pregnant pause.

"Punish?" Mortis asked.

"Men belonging to a certain worm named Varley had interrupted a excavation I had sponsored," Spite explained. "They almost destroyed one of Old Agartha's libraries in the process."

Mortis winced as she heard the cold rage within the voice of Spite. "And you hired an assassin to go after him?"

"Not him, but his only child. A certain Bernadetta von Varley."

"The one with the Crest of Indech?" Mortis recalled. "That Bernadetta?"

"Impressive memory," Spite replied. "That is correct. Unfortunately for me, the attack failed. This… Yuri faltered at the last minute."

"So what did you do then?" Mortis asked. "You aren't big on forgiveness."

"I wrote him a letter reminding him that I knew many of his secrets. I made sure that he knew that any further intervention against Shambhala's projects would result in a massacre, not a simple assassination."

Mortis grimaced as she listened to the hardened intent within Spite's voice. "What about the old guy?"

"I ran into him while working on the Ordelia project," Spite said. "I doubt he would recognize me, but I'm still cautious."

"What about the monster summoner?" Mortis asked. "Hapi, I believe her name is?"

"That's correct-" Spite started. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Pardon?" Mortis blurted out, wincing at the sudden increase in volume.

"Not you," Spite replied, his voice distant. "Odesse tells me that Thales has returned."

* * *

Aranea watched the Machine Hall carefully as the last of the soldiers left the faltering portal that had led to the dark realm of Zaharas.

"So we have returned." Solon observed, his eyes scanning the room as the door opened, a unwitting magister hurrying in.

"Ahem- Lords and Ladies of the Sept-"

"Enough," Spite's voice echoed from behind the man, the unmistakable form of her twin bringing a frown to Aranea's face. "Odesse, bring Shambhala to heel."

"No," the booming voice of Thales said, freezing the man in place as two superiors gave him conflicting orders. "Stay here. They will learn of our presence in the morning."

"Spi- Periander, what is this?" Chilon asked, gesturing to a shattered corpse at his boots.

"A usurper and murderer." Spite replied, his eyes meeting those of Chilon. "I executed him yesterday and left his corpse to rot in Zaharas."

Chilon grimaced as he turned back to face the rest of the Septet assembled in the hall.

"Periander?" Thales asked, his eyes turning to the younger man as he spoke.

"Yes Agastya?" Spite asked, taking a slight bow as he spoke.

"What are the conditions of the rooms? Many of your peers are tired from their march."

"Empty." Spite replied. "The men I still kept under my command still remain within the rooms I assigned them."

"Very well then," Thales said, his towering figure turning to the assembled army. "Soldiers, you are all dismissed until daybreak tomorrow."

"What shall we do with the information we received?" Myson asked. "Regarding the Wind Caller?"

"We will deal with that come a meeting tomorrow," Thales replied. "Once I have addressed Shambhala. We will discuss a replacement for Bias."

"Bias has fallen?" Spite asked, his face blank.

"We believe so." Myson confirmed. "We have no concrete proof, but it would appear that her entire task force was obliterated."

Spite grimaced at the words before he nodded, "Very well then."

"Periander, are you missing any men?" Thales asked, his eyes meeting those of Spite.

Spite paused for a moment before he nodded. "I sent two trusted agents in an attempt to seek you out."

"Oh?" Thales asked, a thin eyebrow raised as he took a step forward, his eyes staring into his subordinate. "I am honoured that you are concerned for my safety, but in the future, do not fret. I will not fall so easily."

"Who was it that you had sent out?" Myson asked, his gaze turned to Spite. "Mortis?"

Spite nodded. "That is correct. The other soldier sent was the swordsman Yurius."

"Fair," Thales said, his eyes turning to find Solon, his face stony. "No matter."

"Where are they at the moment?" Chilon interjected.

"Mortis reported that she had reached the Great Bridge of Myrddin earlier today."

Thales raised an eyebrow at the information. "What else has she stated?"

"Three members of the Black Eagle Strike Force are travelling alongside the two of them," Spite replied. "None of them seem aware of the identity or motivations of my agents."

"And what are the identities of these Black Eagle agents?" Solon asked, his voice dry.

"Lorenz Hellman Gloucester is the most dangerous of the three, purely due to the influence of his father," Spite started. "He also appears to be the senior most member of the trio."

"And what of the other two?" Chilon asked. "How dangerous are they?"

"Leonie Pinelli and Ignatz Victor. Two commoners of no significant rank within the task force."

Thales nodded. "Where are your agents headed?"

"My initial orders were to have them infiltrate Garreg Mach to search for you, but clearly those orders are no longer relevant. Shall I order them to return to Shambhala?"

"No," Thales replied. "To have them turn around suddenly would arouse suspicion from our enemies."

"Should I have them continue with their mission then?" Spite asked.

"Are you in contact with them?" Myson asked. "If you were, then we could understand their situation well enough to plan accordingly."

"I am," Spite replied. "I was in contact with Mortis just before I was informed of your arrival."

"Is she still on the other side of the line?" Aranea asked, her eyes turning from Myson back to her brother.

"She should be," Spite replied. "I was in the middle of a call when news of your arrival came."

"Good," Thales replied. "Show me this... agent of yours."

* * *

Mortis blinked and set down her teacup as a hint of a voice escaped the headset on the desk next to her.

"Spite?" Mortis asked as she placed the headset over her ears.

"His name is Periander." The voice of Thales replied, cold and indifferent.

"Lord Thales?" Mortis choked out, having frozen in place in her seat, suddenly at attention.

"I am told that your name is Mortis. Is that correct?" Thales asked, his tone even.

"That's correct," Mortis replied, hurriedly adjusting her microphone. "How may I be of service?"

"Your mission is over. I have returned to Shambhala." Thales said.

"Ah, should I collect my partner and return then?" Mortis asked into the headset.

"No," Thales replied. "Your mission will change into one of reconnaissance."

Mortis swallowed before she nodded. "Very well then. Is there a target that you have in mind?"

"I am informed that you are currently travelling with three members of the Black Eagle Strike Force," Thales said. "These three are low value targets. None of them are of any importance to Agatha."

Mortis nodded as she glanced around her room. "What, or who would be a high value target?"

"Over the course of the war, two-." Thales said, falling silent mid sentence.

"Pardon?" Mortis asked, straining her ears as she mentally repeated the seven words.

"Periander has informed me that you are familiar with the human identities of Cichol and Cethleann," Thales replied. "Our information states that they fled from the battlefield and are currently in hiding. You will do well to find their location."

Mortis nodded. "Should I wait for my partner before departing?"

"Where-" Thales started, his voice falling silent before starting again. "Periander has reported to me that he has travelled into the territory of Count Gloucester, correct?"

"Correct. He said that we would appear suspicious if we were to suddenly ignore the debt that was owed to us."

"So be it. You have my permission to wait another day" Thales replied. " If your partner has yet to arrive within that time frame, then you are to abandon him."

* * *

"Mercie, is my father alright?" Annette asked as she glanced at her closest friend, her face wrought with worry.

Mercedes replied by simply placing a finger to her lips, silencing her friend.

Annette grimaced as she stepped away from the infirmary alongside her friend.

"Your father will be alright," Mercedes assured her as they entered the stairwell. "His wounds were well bandaged."

"Did- did he ever call for mother?"

Mercedes shook her head at the question. "Your father wasn't conscious when we worked on him."

Annette swallowed as they moved down the flight of stairs, looking to the cool night sky beyond.

"Lady Annette?"

Annette glanced down at the sound of her name, smiling as she greeted the gatekeeper.

"It's good to see you Kyle."

"Ah- Lady Annette, Lady Mercedes," the gatekeeper said quickly. "Lord Linhardt has requested your presence in the dining hall."

"Is there something wrong?" Mercedes asked.

"I-uhh, I don't know. Lady-erm, Princess Petra has arrived."

"I see," Mercedes said, giving the young man a bow in the process. "Thank you for finding us so quickly."

* * *

Seteth paced quietly along the floor as Gregory Dominic watched him.

"Gregory, may I ask you a question?"

The baron blinked at being addressed, but nodded regardless.

"Do you remember Lady Cornelia's assistant during our talks during the war?"

"The knight Mortis?" Gregory recalled, his face concerned. "Yes, I remember her. What is it that you want to ask?"

"How well did she seem to know Cornelia?" Seteth asked the man.

"I'm not- Annette?"

Seteth followed the line of sight of the baron to the two figures at the door, falling silent as he spotted the man's niece.

With scarcely a sound, Madeline Dominic rose from her seat, a hand covering her mouth as she stared at her daughter, who stood frozen at the doorway.

"Mo-mother?" Annette asked, her voice faltering as Madeline Dominic rushed forward and embraced her daughter.

"I see you find her," the voice of Petra said from the other side of the dining hall, the princess of Brigid beaming as she walked forward, watching the reunion unfold. "That is great!"

"Ah, that reminds me," Gregory Dominic said as he stood up. "Crusher is still within the carriage."

"I'll get it for you," Seteth promised. "Stay with your family."

Gregory paused for a long moment before he joined the family hug, one arm around Annette, the other wrapped around Madeline.

* * *

"So dear brother," Aranea offered as she glanced at the ruined door propped up against the wall. "What in the world happened here?"

Spite grimaced and sank back into his chair, rubbing his eyes. "It's a long story, but it's a story that's been concluded. How have you been?"

Aranea snorted, "I've been dead for a while."

Spite raised an eyebrow in response, "Literally or figuratively?"

"Your science experiment hit me with a corpse axe."

"Ordelia or Hresvelg?" Spite asked.

"You already know the answer to that, dear brother," Aranea snarled. "They've had us dancing to their tune this whole time."

"Concerning," Spite replied. "But I must ask the question of if I hurt you with the missiles."

Aranea gave her brother a strange look, "What the hell are you going on about? What missiles?"

"Thales ordered me to level Arianrhod. It is my hope that all your forces were dead before I erased the city."

Aranea shrugged, "Dear my stupid brother, I was well and truly dead. I can't tell you what you would up obliterating."

Spite nodded as he sat back into his chair, fiddling with a desk cabinet, "Would you like some tea?"

"No," Aranea replied. "I want a shower, then the strongest drink you have hiding in your desk."

"Shower's available, feel free to use it," Spite replied with a shrug.

"Don't forget about the drink," Aranea replied as she turned to the side bathroom.

Spite sighed as the door to his personal bathroom closed, "Bloody hell."

* * *

The dining hall was nearly silent apart from the fish-devouring monster that was Flayn, the tiny girl devouring a large platter of fish as her father and uncle watched from another table.

Indech sighed as he placed down his teacup, his eyes focused on the table next to them, his eyes wandering over the sight of the Dominic family.

"Something on your mind?" Seteth asked, watching his brother with keen interest.

"The descendents of the eleven, do they know? The weapons."

Seteth shook his head in turn, his eyes falling upon the form of Crusher.

"Do you remember our brother?" Indech asked, his eyes hardening at the weapon.

"Tlaloc?" Seteth asked, his lips drawn into a hard line.

Indech nodded, "Some days I wish I could hear his laugh, just so I could yell at him."

Seteth closed his eyes, "It's a painful memory."

Indech sighed, tearing his gaze from his brother's desecrated corpse, "Let's talk about something else then."

Seteth nodded as he faced his brother, "Indech, why is it that you've come here?"

Indech turned his gaze to his niece, now watching the conversation intensely before he sighed.

"Brother?" Flayn asked, her eyes drifting to the form of her uncle, "Just why is uncle Indech here?"

Seteth swallowed, his gaze shifting back to his brother. "That's a good question. Indech, just why did you abandon your solitude?"

Indech blinked as he glanced around the room, no less a dozen pairs of eyes focused on him, "Brother, are they- are they trustworthy?"

Seteth grimaced as he glanced around the room, of the students he had taught and the rare comrade he had fought alongside.

"I trust them," Flayn said, cutting through the silence. "I trust the professor."

Seteth turned to match his daughter's gaze before he nodded, "I trust them too."

Indech turned to watch the face of his brother before turning to Flayn, his eyes taking a long moment to meet her eyes before he spoke.

"The scions of Agartha came to kill me."

Flayn gasped and Seteth flinched.

"I killed them," Indech said after a moment, turning his gaze to watch the reactions of his audience. "But I know they would not have relented with a single force. Many more would come."

"And you chose to leave," Seteth finished.

"I feared for your safety," Indech replied. "That you would have been cut down by our enemies."

"We're safe," Seteth promised, through his face showed open discomfort.

Indech nodded, his face scanning the room, "And what of Macuil and Seiros?"

"Macuil chose to leave civilization behind," Seteth said after a long pause. "All our information says that he's still somewhere within the Sreng Desert."

"And our sister Seiros?"

"Dead," Seteth said as he exchanged a glance with Linhardt. "She fell in battle."

"How? Seiros surpassed all of us in combat."

"Our sister spent many years trying to bring back mother," Seteth said, his face dark. "It- it would lead to her downfall."

"Mother? But The Thief King tore her apart."

Seteth shook his head. "She succeeded in her quest. Somehow, she brought back our mother."

"But that makes no sense. Why would she be dead then?"

"May I speak?" Linhardt asked, his eyes watching the two Nabateans before him.

* * *

The table in the prisoner tent was short and stubby, made from what had once been a solid oak tree a decade prior.

"Name?" Ingrid asked the woman sitting before them, her hands clasped before her.

"Bias," the woman replied, her face neutral.

"That's not your name," Douglas said after a long moment of silence. "What's your real name?"

"Periander."

"She's lying," Felix snarled. "She's toying with us."

"What would you like us to call you?" Ashe asked after exchanging a glance with Sylvain.

"Kronya would suffice."

Ingrid snapped to attention at the name of Jeralt Eisner's murderer, the men behind her staring at the prisoner in shock.

"Right-" Douglas said, having been the first member of their group to recover his wits. "Should we just call her prisoner? Doesn't seem like this name game is going to get us anywhere."

Ashe exchanged a glance with Sylvain and Felix.

"Yeah, I think that works," Caspar said. "Not like anything else has worked."

Ingrid nodded as she turned back to the prisoner, "Very well then. Tell us about why you were here."

"Kill Macuil."

"Who?" Caspar asked. "The saint?"

"Saint Macuil has been dead for years," Douglas snorted. "Everyone knows that."

"You're all idiots," the woman replied. "You have any idea how hard it was to even find that damn Nabatean?"

"Naba-what?" Caspar asked, his head turned strangely at the name.

"Nevermind," Ingrid sighed. "Tell us about the Athame. You obviously know enough about it."

"What's there to say? It's a replica. Spite and Mortis have the two real ones."

"Who is that?" Ingrid asked, her eyes watching the woman before her with malice.

"Spite or Mortis?"

Ingrid glanced behind her as the men shook their heads in confusion.

"Spite then," Ingrid said. "Who is this Spite?"

"Kronya's big brother," the prisoner said with a shrug.

"Kronya had a brother?" Sylvain asked, slamming his hands into the table. "She had a brother?"

"A sister too," the prisoner offered, almost cheerfully. "Spite's twin."

"Impossible," Sylvain muttered.

"Why is it impossible?" the prisoner asked. "I believe that all of you know someone with siblings."

"That's not the point," Sylvain hissed. "There's two more murderous assassins running around?"

"What? No. Hell no. Spite and Aranea are both mages. Kronya is the only one of them to not have her head screwed on right."

"And what about this Aranea then?" Ingrid asked. "Who is she?"

The woman sitting before them raised a eyebrow. "You don't know? You killed her aft_e_r all."

* * *

"It's good to have running water again," Aranea said as she returned to face her brother at his desk. "Almost as good as this bourbon you've prepared me."

"To making up for lost time." Spite said as he raised his glass.

"To making up," Aranea replied, downing her drink with a single swig. "Making up for lost time."

"More?" Spite asked, hand already on the half empty bottle he had at his desk.

"Only in a minute," Aranea replied, her eyes studying her brother. "You've lost weight."

"It's a hot summer," Spite replied. "Stressful one too. How is the husband hunting?"

Aranea laughed. "Very funny. Remind me to smother you in your sleep."

"Mortis is my apprentice now, not yours. Find another idiot to do your dirty work."

Aranea scoffed as Spite refilled her glass, taking a long drink as she leaned into her chair.

"Where are you sleeping tonight?" Spite asked, his hands slowly drumming against the table.

"Not sure if there's going to be any open beds," Aranea said. "Unless you happen to be offering yours?"

"It's probably a lot harder than what you are used to, though I probably have a spare pillow somewhere."

Aranea nodded as she took a slow sip of her drink, leaving a significant portion of the amber liquid within the glass.

Spite moved to fill the glass before his sister waved him off.

"Addy, you don't have to do that for me."

"I'm hosting this little reunion of ours," Spite replied. "If I'm not pouring the drinks, then who will?"

"I didn't pour drinks back in Arianrhod either, Mortis got good at figuring out what I wanted."

"Good on her," Spite replied. "Good to see our investment in her paid off."

"Any of those kids would have done the same," Aranea said with a scoff.

"If only they had the brains to avoid attacking a member of the Septet in broad daylight," Spite shot back. "If only."

Aranea slammed her glass onto the desk in response, "Do you really have to hold that over my head?"

Spite shook his head, his face having turned serious, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought up the topic."

"Then let's change the topic," Aranea said, turning from her brother in annoyance. "What are you thinking about?"

"Mortis and the meeting tomorrow. Wonder what that mess is going to be about?"

"Bias and her entire unit have gone dark," Aranea said, watching her brother's eyes darken. "It's likely they've suffered a gruesome fate."

Spite leaned heavily into his chair as he crossed his hands in his lap, "What about Pittacus?"

"I am Pittacus now."

Spite gave his sister a long look before he grabbed his drink, downing the entire glass in a single gulp.

"You just implied that a full half of our fighting men and a third of our lesser magi have been wiped out." Spite concluded. "Please tell me that's the bourbon talking."

When his sister failed to say a word, Spite filled his glass before downing the refilled drink in a single swig, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion.

"I suppose neither of us are going to arrive at the meeting sober," Aranea laughed. "What was it with Mortis again?"

"She was asking me about our relationship with the Ashen Wolves."

"That outcast group?" Aranea asked, raising an eyebrow as she sipped her own drink.

"She was asking why each of them constituted a threat to her mission."

"All of that Black Eagles Strike Force could have constituted a threat to her mission," Aranea replied. "What makes the little wolves so dangerous?"

"Well, for one she didn't know any of them from beforehand. It was only when they turned up mid year that I even knew they were in Garreg Mach, and that was before we actually took a look at their history."

"Who was Mortis asking about?"

"Your predecessor's failed experiment," Spite replied. "The previous Cornelia, not the previous Pittacus."

Aranea groaned, "That idiot Cornelia couldn't take notes to save her life."

"She wasn't the sharpest blade on the rack, no," Spite replied. "But yes, I was going to explain to Mortis why she should prepare for a battle whenever that girl sighed."

"Did you get to explain?" Aranea asked, glancing at the radio on the floor next to the desk.

Spite turned to the machine before he shook his head, "Odesse interrupted me before I could. I'm sure Mortis has already gone to sleep."

Aranea rose from her seat as her brother tilted his head.

"Aranea, what are you doing?"

"I'm calling her," Aranea replied. "I don't think you know her well enough to understand her sleep habits."

* * *

When she heard the voice, Mortis grabbed her Athame, the blade reflecting the moon as she sat up, her eyes darting around the room as she slid her legs off of the rough bed.

When she heard the voice again, Mortis turned to the radio that linked her back to Shambhala, her fingers trembling as she placed the headset over her head.

"Mortis here," she said, blinking sleep from her eyes.

"I told you she's still up," the voice of Aranea scoffed on the other end of the line, though the woman's voice was distant, as if she was speaking to someone else within the room.

"Lady Aranea?" Mortis asked into the machine. "Is that you?"

"Yes Mortis, it's me. My brother here has filled me in on your current situation."

Mortis swallowed, "Was it true that you were killed in Arianrhod?"

"You really were worried that you blew me up weren't you?" The distant voice Aranea asked, her tone dismissive.

"I- I'm sorry," Mortis said, her lips pressed in a frown.

"Not you," Aranea scoffed. "I'm arguing with my brother."

Mortis winced as she thought about her next words, "What are your orders?"

"Oh, that's very nice of you," Aranea said. "Sending Mortis and the other idiot? I didn't think you would go that far, dear brother."

Mortis grimaced, "Lady Aranea, was there a purpose for this call?"

"Just finishing up your understanding of the Ashen Wolves, my dear," Aranea replied. "And in particular, the one known as Hapi."

Mortis thought of the interrupted conversation with Spite before she absentmindedly nodded, "Oh, that. I had forgotten it all over the course of the new assignment."

Aranea chuckled, "Fortunately for you, I'm very much familiar with the descendent of Timotheos."

Mortis grunted her confirmation, "What is it that I need to know?"

"She's fundamentally an enigma for us. No thanks to the incompetence of the previous Cornelia Armin."

Mortis blinked, "Pardon?"

"The first Cornelia Armin was always one of our agents, right from the beginning," Aranea explained, her tone hardening as she reached the end of her sentence. "What a shame then that she was stupid enough to betray Shambhala."

"What?" Mortis spluttered, the news of a traitor to Shambhala driving the last of her exhaustion from her head. "What happened?"

"You can thank my brother for the whole mess," Aranea replied. "He mastered the Blood Reconstruction technique while Cornelia wasted her time and our resources creating an uncontrollable weapon."

Mortis blinked, "I don't understand."

"Let me explain," the voice of Spite said, replacing Aranea. "The original Cornelia Armin was a member of the generation before mine, and she had created in her youth a program to corrupt and weaponize the Crests of our enemies."

Mortis swallowed, "But how does that link to anything?"

"A few years before you entered service, I managed to successfully implant a second crest in the body of one particular Lysithea von Ordelia, though the operation caused the deaths of all of her siblings in the process."

"What does that have to do with the original Cornelia Armin?"

"Her experiments to corrupt the blood of our enemies ended in abject failure around the same time. The girl known as Hapi had no control over her powers," Spite scoffed. "The experiments were ordered to be shut down after the Myson of the time was overrun and slaughtered by wild beasts lured by the reckless use of the Crest of Timotheos."

"What happened with her turning traitor?"

"Envy," Spite replied. "She aimed to take the name of Periander upon the death of my predecessor, but I was named his successor before she could lay claim to the title due to my success on Blood Reconstruction."

Mortis nodded, absorbing the information, "How did you discover that she had turned traitor?"

"A minor beast incursion," Spite replied. "The location of the beasts was far too similar to where the previous Myson had been slain, so we raided the laboratory that she had used prior to the experiments being shut down."

"And you uncovered evidence linking her to the beasts?" Mortis asked.

"We caught her red handed." Spite said with a chuckle, as if he was sharing a joke with his sister. "She was standing over the unconscious body of the experiment she had previously been ordered to dispose of when we stormed through the door."

"And you killed her," Mortis finished.

"Naturally. I dislike leaving behind loose ends," Spite offered. "We dumped the corpse in Zaharas."

"And what about this Hapi?" Mortis asked. "Why wasn't she- well, disposed of?"

"Because Cornelia Armin was dreadful at taking notes," Spite scoffed. "No matter how much we ransacked her study, we could not find details on her results in regards to this Hapi, nor what processes she had used."

"And Lady Aranea was there to continue the work?"

Spite snorted, "No, my sister was there to maintain our position within the kingdom's political elite. In fact, the assassination campaign you and I completed was to dispose of agents the original Cornelia Armin had recruited whose loyalty we could not be sure of."

Despite the new information, Mortis yawned, desperately trying to blink the sleep from her eyes.

"Ah, I see that you're tired," Spite offered. "We'll let you sleep then, I can finish with Nuvelle in the morning."

Mortis closed her eyes for a long moment as the voice of Aranea came back on the line, "Mortis, don't worry about the little wolves, none of them would recognize you anyhow."

Mortis opened her eyes again as she slid onto her back, finding that her leg had fallen asleep.

"Aranea signing off," the voice of the woman said as Mortis drifted away.

"Mortis signing off," Mortis whispered as she lifted the headset from her head, her body slowly sprawling out on the cool floor as she fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

Ferdinand sighed as he washed the grime and sweat from his hair, dunking his head back under the cool water of the river he had camped next to.

"I wonder what I'll have for dinner," Ferdinand said. "Perhaps I can save the sandwich for tomorrow."

"Hey Yuri!" a far too familiar voice shouted. "Check this out!"

Ferdinand blinked a moment before he registered the muscle bound man throwing himself against the water, and only two moments before he was drenched, spluttering in stunned silence as the man resurfaced, roaring in laughter.

"What in the world?" Ferdinand asked as he blinked the water from his eyes, his face stunned as he stared at Balthus.

"Hey Ferdinand," Balthus said, grinning ear to ear. "Hey Yuri! Ferdinand is here too!"

A moment passed before Balthus turned to Ferdinand, looking at the noble suspiciously, "Hey, wait a second, what are you doing here anyways?"

"Finally you ask the right question," Yuri muttered from the shore. "Hurry up though, we only have a bit before the girls demand their turn in the water."

Ferdinand glanced up at Yuri before he wiped away his soaked hair, "What are you two doing here anyways?"

"What kind of dolls did Bernadetta make?" Yuri asked, his eyes looking down on Ferdinand.

Ferdinand gave the purple haired man a dirty look before he sighed, "Carnivorous plants."

"What happens to Constance when she's in the sun?"

"She switches off," Ferdinand growled. "She loses all confidence in herself."

"Deideru," Yuri snapped.

"Linhardt trapped Hubert on top of a tall building that he couldn't climb down from," Ferdinand sighed. "Ingrid had to fly her mount up to rescue him."

"He's the real Ferdinand," Balthus observed with a roll of the eyes. "Hey Ferdinand, you got any soap?"

"Balthus, I thought I told you to prepare better," Yuri muttered from the side of the river. "Still, it's your fault for trying to take a shortcut."

"I have soap if you want it," Ferdinand offered. "Please don't drop it, the river's currents are strong enough that we might never get it back."

"Hey Yuribird, B, we found someone's campsite. Looks like Imperial- oh hi Pompy."

"That's my camp you found," Ferdinand offered, "why are you here anyways?"

"We were digging through Arianrhod," Yuri admitted. "Hubert wanted us to see if there was anything that we could link to Edelgard's creepy uncle."

"You find anything?" Ferdinand asked.

"Only a symbol, we found a guy buried under a building with a symbol on his uniform," Yuri explained, his face impassive.

"Was this symbol an eye?" Ferdinand asked, his mind darting to the dead soldiers in the capital.

"How the hell did you know that?" Yuri asked, his face hardening.

"Because we found one as well."

* * *

The convoy trudged along slowly before stopping entirely, stopping before a large pavilion, well lit by torchlight.

"Well, it looks like we'll wait here," Yurius observed. "Looks like Mortis is going to have to wait."

"Why are you so concerned with her being alone?" Ignatz asked, taking a moment to clean his glasses.

"That's right. You mentioned that she travelled a lot, why is it so bad to leave her alone?" Leonie followed. "She can handle herself can't she?"

Yurius shook his head as the convoy shuffled forward, "She doesn't like Evi all that much. I'm worried that something might have happened between them."

"And why are you so concerned about Evi?" Leonie asked, stepping ever closer to Yurius.

Yurius shook his head and turned back to the convoy, "It's about the money again. Maya likes spending too much of it on Evi."

"I don't think it's too much," Ignatz said. "Evi must have lost all her clothes while travelling. There's nothing wrong with helping her back on her feet."

Yurius winced as he glanced up, the trees of the hills breaking out into a clear plateau.

"Yurius, why is Mor-"

A powerful trumpet drowned out Leonie as a thundering caravan pushed forward, a dozen heavily armoured guards following the various workhorses.

"May I have your attention please!" A voice shouted at the head of the convoy.

"You recognize the blond guy on the horse?" Yurius whispered to Ignatz.

"I- I can't see," Ignatz offered, his slender frame much smaller than the burly farmers who towered over him.

"Fucking Acheron," Leonie hissed. "Should have expected that snake was behind this."

"I thought we took him down," Ignatz muttered, his face scrunched in disgust.

"The professor had Hapi break off the chase to focus on ensuring we took down Judith," Leonie growled. "They let him slip."

"My fellow countrymen!" Acheron shouted over the din of murmuring. "I come here to ask for your support! With your help, I'll be able to break the chains of the cruel empire!"

Yurius glanced at Leonie, her face turning from disgust to murderous rage.

"That bastard is inciting rebellion?" Leonie whispered under her breath. "How stupid is he?"

Yurius almost laughed at the unexpected comment, but turned his gaze to the pompous noble on the horse.

"With this gold, I'll be able to buy an army to fight for our freedom!"

"Doubt it," Leonie muttered. "No mercenary in their right mind would sign up to fight the empire's legions. Not even Jeralt would have done that."

"Of course, I also ask for your support in this noble endeavour." Acheron continued. "It is only by our combined power that we can stand against the empire!"

"Where's our food?" A voice at the front of the crowd shouted. "We have families we need to feed!"

Acheron turned to the crowd, his face shocked at the prospect of civilians being disinterested in the idea of rebellion.

"Food! Food! Food!" The crowd chanted, surging forward in their rage.

"Silence!" Acheron shouted as he charged forward, waving a poorly maintained sword over his head. "I will not tolerate this behaviour!"

At the words of the count, the crowd surged forward, rushing desperately at the caravan as Acheron was torn free from his horse, disappearing beneath a crowd of charging peasants.

"Enough!" A second booming voice shouted over the din.

For a moment, the crowd stopped at the sight of a small army of soldiers rushing from the woods around the road, though the sight of the banner of House Gloucester resulted in no shortage of cheers from the crowd.

Seeing that they had been surrounded, the handful of guards who had followed Acheron turned and broke, hurrying to flee the way they had come.

A dozen heavily armoured riders promptly put a screeching halt to the escape, their lances forcing the small infantry brigade back, the soldiers of House Acheron dropping their blades one after another as they surrendered.

"Friends! Come, take what you will need, and eat well tonight." Count Gloucester called. "There is no need to pay gold for your birthright!"

"Well, that seems to be that." Yurius muttered as the crowd rushed forward, taking a moment to step forward, nodding to two approaching soldiers as he tore the hood from his head.

The first man shared his nod, the second one bringing a heavy hammer upon him.

Instinct allowed Yurius to dodge the blow aimed at his head, though the first soldier slammed the butt of a spear into his stomach, knocking Yurius back and expelling the breath from his lungs.

Even as instinct and his training screamed at him to move, the next blow found his arm, knocking him to the ground.

From somewhere in the distance, Yurius heard Leonie scream, followed with a panicked cry from Ignatz.

Then the soldier brought his spear down, and Yurius knew darkness.

* * *

**AN:** Chapter 22 is done. Do relax. Yurius isn't dead.

**Next chapter: **

Chapter 19: Para Bellum. Part 1.

Verrat.

Sticks and harsh language.

Chains and fire.

Fear and truth.

**As always, review, follow, etc. **


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23: Para Bellum. Prologue.

* * *

It was shortly before breakfast that Byleth joined Hubert at the table, taking a close seat before the Minister of the Imperial Household.

"Good morning Professor," Hubert offered as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "We're to leave for Garreg Mach today."

Byleth nodded as he helped himself to a small pastry, biting into the sweet bread before pouring himself a cup of tea.

"I apologize for falling asleep in my duties last night," Hubert began. "I confess, I have been staying up too late in my duties as of late."

"Why is that?" Byleth asked, his food forgotten as he looked at Hubert.

"These… Shambhalans have made sleep rather difficult," Hubert said. "For as much as I hate them, so much of their organization remains unknown to us."

Byleth shook his head, "You've grown since our days at the academy. I have faith that you'll surpass our enemies when the time comes."

Hubert sighed, "I thank you for your faith professor, but there is still much we do not know."

"We will surpass this challenge," Byleth replied firmly. "Remember that."

Hubert shook his head, "I've failed Lady Edelgard before. Each failure burdens my mind, and more importantly, I fear the next failure."

"We all make mistakes," Byleth said in turn. "Even now, I wonder if there was any way to stop Alferic or convince Dimitri to see reason."

A flash of light danced across Hubert's eyes, "If memory serves, you fought alongside the King of Delusion during the Ashen Wolves campaign."

"I did," Byleth replied. "Yet, in the end, even our bonds, forged in the battle against Alferic, weren't enough to convince him of the truth."

Hubert swallowed at the words, his lone visible eye settling down on the tea as Byleth took another bite of the pastry, barely tasting the fruit within.

"I believe I've told you about my first attempt to rescue Lady Edelgard," Hubert said, his eyes watching Byleth. "I would make another attempt in late 1174."

"What happened?" Byleth asked, his voice tense.

"Adrasteia personally caught me," Hubert replied, his face hard with shame. "He found my attempt amusing."

"When did this happen?" Edelgard asked, approaching the table slowly as she stared down Hubert.

Hubert shook his head, "I've told you about my interactions with those of Shambhala."

"Yes, but you never mentioned that you attempted to rescue me from their grasp," Edelgard replied. "Why did you not tell me?"

Hubert shook his head, "I've told you before, there are secrets even I'm unwilling to share."

"And why were you willing to share them with the professor?" Edelgard asked, pulling up a seat at their table as she stared at her servant.

"Because I failed, and that is simply not something you needed to know happened. Besides, nothing came of it."

"What makes you say that?" Edelgard asked. "Perhaps this Adrasteia was not careful, and let something slip."

Hubert shook his head vigorously as Byleth poured Edelgard a cup of tea, their eyes on his face as he spoke again.

"Adrasteia allowed me to see you that day," Hubert said at last. "He brought me into your chamber."

"And what happened then?" Byleth asked, his face watching Hubert.

"Nothing," Hubert replied. "I had a choice then. I could have stabbed Adrasteia with his letter opener, I could have struck him with a chamber pot when his back was turned, but I did nothing."

"You would have been fourteen," Edelgard replied. "And fighting against a fully grown man, and likely a powerful sorcerer at that. To have attacked him would have been a death sentence."

Hubert shook his head in turn, his face dark, "You fail to understand, Lady Edelgard. To have walked away without having done anything was to spit on my oath of service. Instead of serving you as I should have, I left that room without raising a finger, without saying a word."

Edelgard closed her eyes for a moment, leaning back into her chair as the two men by her side fell silent.

"Hubert?" Edelgard asked when she opened her eyes again.

"Yes Lady Edelgard?" Hubert asked, his tone formal.

"Had you gotten yourself killed attempting a rescue, then you would have failed me," Edelgard said, her tone frigid. "In the event I would ever be in the same situation, I would expect you to rally an army to free me rather than waste your life against an army of guards."

Hubert swallowed, his face clearly uncomfortable.

"Is that clear?" Edelgard asked, her eyes staring unflinchingly at her servant.

"Crystal, Lady Edelgard," Hubert said with a bow of his head.

"None of us would ever let you be taken," Dorothea said as she approached the table. "They'd have to get through all of us first."

"I wholeheartedly agree," Hanneman said as he followed Dorothea. "They would have to fight the entirety of the Imperial Army, the Black Eagle Strike Force, and the Professor himself before that monstrous idea could even be entertained."

Dorothea smiled as she rested her arms against Hubert's shoulders, "And there's no way they're getting through us."

* * *

Mortis winced as she opened her eyes, taking a long moment to survey her surroundings, slowly reaching behind her head to rub her sore neck.

"Just my luck," Mortis hissed, forcing herself up as she blinked the sleep from her eyes, taking a moment to stretch her limbs before standing up.

The unmistakable stench of smoke made Mortis grimace as she turned to the window, watching a large plume of smoke rise from the street below.

"What the fuck?" Mortis asked as she moved to survey the scene below, her hands slowly reaching for her Athame.

* * *

"How far away are we from Garreg Mach?" Ferdinand asked as he joined Yuri at the campfire.

"Not long now," Yuri replied. "There's maybe a half day of listening to Constance mope left before we can reach Garreg Mach."

Ferdinand nodded, "You think anything about the symbol?"

"The eye?" Yuri asked, his eyes darting to the sleeping forms of his friends. "There's nothing from my end. I've never seen it before we found the dead guy."

Ferdinand nodded, his lips pursed. "Out of all of us in Fhirdiad, only two of us had ever seen the symbol before."

Yuri raised an eyebrow at the comment, "Is that so?"

"I saw it while my father conducted business with the other members of the Insurrection," Ferdinand confirmed. "Sylvain mentioned he saw one of Cornelia's guards wearing the icon."

Both of Yuri's eyebrows rose at the words, "Was this during the sack of Arianrhod?"

Ferdinand shook his head, "No, this was before he came to Garreg Mach. He confessed that he was doing… Sylvain things."

"Ah," Yuri said. "Curious, I didn't think he would be interested in a humble guard when he could have been looking at Cornelia."

Ferdinand sighed, "He claimed that the guard was rather attractive."

"That's Sylvain for you," Yuri said with a shake of his head. "Still, if this was a guard of Cornelia's, there's a good chance we slew her in battle."

Ferdinand shook his head, "Even if she was killed, there's still potentially more of them out there. We also can't discount the possibility of her being out there somewhere."

"You mentioned Cornelia," Hapi said, her unexpected voice causing Ferdinand to jump, her tone frigid as she stared at the two men before her.

"Right," Yuri cut in, turning back to give Hapi a look of regret. "Sorry about that."

Hapi shook her head, "It's alright Yuri bird. I couldn't sleep with Pompy's information anyways."

"Do you think there's anyone else who knows about the insignia?" Yuri asked. "Perhaps Caspar or Linhardt?"

Ferdinand paused for a moment before he shook his head, "We asked Caspar. He didn't have a clue what the symbol was. I suspect Hubert will recognize it."

Hapi turned her head strangely, "Why the Bert? Apart from the fact that he's creepy?"

Ferdinand shook his head, "Hubert's father took a large role in the Insurrection of the Seven."

"Why not ask his father then?" Hapi asked.

Ferdinand winced in turn, "You two weren't there to see it were you?"

Yuri raised an eyebrow, "I'm all but banned from Enbarr, so no. A misgiving with a certain crime lord."

"I heard about it," Constance said quietly as she approached the group. "I heard it was terrible."

"Coco, what do you mean?" Hapi asked, turning to face her friend.

"Hubert murdered his father in cold blood," Ferdinand offered. "I was told that half of his household staff went with him to the grave."

"Right," Yuri admitted. "Let's leave it at that, talking about murder isn't going to get us any closer to Garreg Mach."

"Are you two hungry?" Ferdinand asked the girls.

"I'm not worthy to eat in your presence," Constance said, her head bowed.

Yuri sighed as he pulled a piece of bread from a nearby sack, "Constance, you're eating with us, and that's that."

* * *

"What's with the early meeting?" Chilon asked as he arrived at the conference room, frowning as he spotted Spite hastily scribbling notes at the end of the table. "Did something happen to your agent?"

"Dire news," Thales replied. "Our field agent has reported to us that there's a rebellion at The Great Bridge of Myrddin."

"Rebellion?" Chilon asked, staring at Spite as the man turned the page. "The worms are killing one another?"

Spite glanced up at the form of Chilon standing over the table before he took off his headset.

"Anything?" Aranea asked, her voice tight as she looked at her brother.

"Mortis is asking for orders," Spite said, leaning back into his seat. "The rebels are actively being helped by a unit of soldiers wearing the colours of House Gloucester."

"What does that mean for us?" Chilon asked, his face hard.

"Our other agent is either dead or incapacitated," Spite replied. "Remember, he marched into the heart of Gloucester territory in an attempt to recover the gold that was owed to them."

"And the three who were with him?" Thales asked.

"Likely in rebellion, possibly dead or incapacitated," Spite replied. "Though they are all from the Alliance, and it would make a degree of sense that the younger Gloucester would follow his father into rebellion."

"What shall we do then?" Chilon asked as he leaned back into his seat. "Is there any particular side we should march alongside?"

"No," Thales replied. "Periander, instruct your agent to keep hidden. We will need more information before we can act."

* * *

"Is there anything else that we can do for you?" Fleche asked as she followed the royal party to their carriage.

Edelgard shook her head as she absentmindedly waved at a gathering crowd of civilians, all clamouring to glimpse their emperor.

"Is Jeritza's armour repaired?" Hubert asked as he approached the party, quietly glaring down the crowd of civilians.

"The armour of the Death Knight has been repaired to the best of our ability," a guard informed Hubert. "Still, it is difficult. The techniques and materials used by the armour's creators surpasses even the best of our blacksmiths."

"Tell me about the metal used in the plate," Hubert replied. "Why is it that you cannot replicate it?"

"Frankly sir, we don't even know what it is," the soldier replied. "None of us have ever seen it before."

"So it's not a metal mined from the Adrestian Empire then," Hubert concluded.

"That would appear to be so, my lord," the soldier replied. "On the subject of the original blacksmith, we cannot be sure if it was a kingdom or alliance blacksmith who crafted the armour in the first place."

"Why is that?" Hubert asked.

"The alliance is more likely willing to craft such an armour," Hanneman offered. "But at the same time, they are notorious for their distaste for heavy armour, and would likely lack the blacksmiths capable of creating such a suit."

"So we shall look to the kingdom then," Hubert stated.

"Yes, but the Holy Kingdom has strong traditions amongst it's knights," Hanneman argued. "It would be difficult to craft such a suit of armour and yet remain unnoticed by Faerghus' knightley elite."

Hubert nodded, "We will discuss these factors with the rest of the Black Eagles at Garreg Mach, but we must get there first."

"We can supply you with double horses," Fleche offered. "It will make for a faster trip to Garreg Mach."

"That won't be needed," Edelgard replied. "Travelling all day and night is quite dangerous. I would much rather we arrive safely than arrive at Garreg Mach with only a single carriage."

"Shall I provide you with riders then?" Fleche asked.

"Fleche," Edelgard said firmly. "That's enough. We don't need half of your standing forces to escort us. We will be fine on our own."

"Ensure that you get us your strongest horses," Hubert said after a moment. "But ensure that your forces are ready to move out if called upon."

"Of course," Fleche said as the first carriage rolled forward. "Safe travels."

* * *

"Good morning," Indech said to his brother as the two men sat at a table at the corner of the dining hall. "I trust you slept well?"

"I know that you didn't sleep a wink," Seteth replied. "I doubt either of us could sleep after all that we learned."

"I- I regret not being there for Seiros," Indech said as the two men each took a sip of their tea. "Perhaps if I had been there, maybe she wouldn't have done what she did."

Seteth shook his head, "I was there for years. No matter what we did, there was no stopping her from trying to bring mother back."

Indech nodded, "Then there's nothing we can do but avenge her death."

"The question there is the question of how," Seteth replied. "Or even if it would be possible."

"Who was this emperor who slew her?" Indech asked. "It seems that this emperor would be a place to start."

Seteth shook his head, "Edelgard is not Agarthan. Nor is it possible to avenge Rhea by killing her."

"And why is that?" Indech asked. "What is it that's stopping us?"

Seteth watched his brother carefully before he took another sip of his tea, "Do you remember everyone from the room last night?"

"What of them?" Indech asked.

"I fought them," Seteth admitted. "Twice, and it was only by the mercy of their Professor that I was allowed to leave with my life."

Indech narrowed his eyes, "You're saying that everyone in that room was somehow tied to this Edelgard?"

Seteth shook his head, "Not everyone, but only two people we had dinner with last night had not swore loyalty to the Adrestian Empire."

"Who were they?" Indech asked. "This Linhardt?"

Seteth shook his head, "The Baron Dominic and his wife."

"I apologize, but I'm not married to Lady Madeline," Gregory Dominic said as he approached the table. "May I sit?"

Seteth nodded as he pulled his chair back, giving Gregory space to sit at the table.

"Like I was saying, while I am the Baron Dominic, Lady Madeline is married to my brother," Gregory explained. "He abandoned his family after the Tragedy of Duscar."

Indech closed his eyes and frowned, "When was this?"

"It's been nine years now," Gregory replied. "Nine long years."

Seteth nodded, "He came to Garreg Mach under the name Gilbert. Served the church faithfully."

Gregory shook his head in disgust, "There's little love lost between us brothers."

Seteth nodded, his face hard as he leaned back into his seat.

"Is something wrong Seteth?" Gregory asked. "You appear to be in deep thought."

"There was another matter I wished to ask you about," Seteth said. "In regards to the Council of Fhirdiad."

"What of the council?" Gregory asked. "It's attendants are almost all dead."

"What do you remember of Cornelia's representative?" Seteth asked. "The Dark Knight Mortis."

Gregory turned his head as he frowned, "A strange one for certain. I don't believe she was affiliated with any noble house in the kingdom. She seemed to appear out of thin air."

"Was there anything else strange about her?" Seteth asked.

"What is this about?" Gregory asked in turn. "Despite her origin, or rather, her lack of one, she was capable at what she did."

Seteth frowned, exchanging a glance with Indech in turn.

"We suspect that Cornelia had plans that went against the kingdom and the church," Seteth admitted. "We suspect that her inner circle must have had some form of knowledge of this."

Gregory paused as he bowed forward, his elbows holding his body up as he exhaled deeply into his hands.

"She had a dagger," Gregory said. "She was secretive around it."

"Dagger?" Seteth asked, his mind racing. "Describe it for me."

Gregory shook his head. "It was a big weapon, almost the length of a shortsword. I found it to be too ornate to be practical."

"Did it have a single blade or a double?" Seteth asked.

"Pardon?" Gregory asked. "I'm not sure I understand the question."

"The blade you saw her with, was there only a single cutting edge or were there two?" Seteth asked, dread filling his heart as the image of the infamous dagger flashed through his mind.

"Single," Gregory said, his eyes turning to watch Seteth strangely. "Though I'm unsure of why you are so interested in such a simple dagger."

"Wait here," Seteth said as he fled the room, hurrying past Hilda and Marianne as they entered the dining hall.

* * *

Yurius winced as he opened his eyes, his world spinning as he forced himself to adjust to the flickering light that lit the dungeon.

A boot to the stomach made Yurius groan and double over, gagging as he hacked on the ground, yet he still felt his restrained arms refuse to leave the wall he had been shackled to.

"Get up worm," a voice snarled. "Count Gloucester wants you."

"Where are we going?" a voice asked from afar.

Yurius winced as the voice descended into screams.

"Enough!" Yurius called out, his voice breaking as his dry throat screamed for water. "We'll go!"

* * *

Chilon glanced at Spite as the slender magister scribbled hasty notes onto a pad of paper, the man pausing only to turn the page before returning to writing.

"What do you think is happening?" Chilon asked Aranea as she entered the room, a tall mug of tea in her hand.

"I wouldn't know," Aranea replied, taking a sip of her tea. "My brother is always busy."

"Aranea," Spite barked, turning to face the two other members of the Septet. "I must consult Thales."

"Why is that?" Aranea asked as she took a sip of her tea.

"Mortis is getting nervous. She's requesting permission to break out of her position."

Aranea sighed, "Right. Fine. I'm on it."

"You need me to do anything?" Chilon asked as Spite set down his headset, watching silently as the magister took a sip of his cold tea.

"No," Spite replied. "Though I trust you are familiar with the location of the town?"

"Myrddin is the town on the big bridge right?" Chilon asked, sitting down as Spite nodded.

"We'll need your knowledge to plan this out, assuming of course that Thales approves of this plan."

"And if he doesn't?" Chilon asked.

Spite shrugged, "Mortis is paranoid, as she usually is. I would expect her to defy orders sooner or later."

"Apple doesn't fall far from the tree then," Chilon chuckled. "You've made a miniature version of yourself with how she's turned out."

"And how is that?" Spite asked, his voice icy as he stared down the larger man.

"Neither of you know how to react in the moment. You fall apart and panic when something comes up that you haven't planned for."

Spite paused for a moment before he sipped his tea again, grimacing at the cold, bitter water.

"Periander, what was it that you needed me for?" Thales asked as he stepped through the door, Myson and Aranea stepping into the room behind him.

"Mortis has requested that she be allowed to break out of her current situation," Spite replied. "She stated that she does not trust the staff at the tavern she's staying at to keep her identity."

"Very well then," Thales replied. "What would her plan be to escape? Would she be able to contact us after her escape?"

The room fell silent as Spite turned to his notes, his face deep in thought.

"Mortis isn't going to be strong enough to carry the rest of her travelling kit alongside the radio," Aranea finally admitted. "Still, I can vouch from personal experience that she can slip through enemy lines to deliver herself to safety."

"Is there an imperial army blockade?" Myson asked. "If she can cause a distraction, it's possible that she can make a break for the imperial lines."

"It would be best for her to avoid the presence of the Adrestian Empire," Spite said after a long minute. "We don't know how many members of the Black Eagles Strike Force know just who she is."

"Speaking of people who know who she is, how many senior members of the Kingdom's forces are still alive?" Aranea asked. "Senior Holy Kingdom commanders would recognize her as my equerry."

"And who would be included within this group of individuals?" Thales asked. "Our agents can only confirm a handful of deaths in Fhirdiad."

"And who were these?" Aranea asked, turning her gaze to Thales. "And just how many of them were there?"

"An agent of mine reported that three senior commanders of the Church of Seiros burned with Fhirdiad." Thales said. "The Immaculate One, Thunderstrike Catherine, and the Almyran Cyril."

"Who was the last one?" Chilon asked.

"Nobody important," Aranea and Spite replied in unison, the twins exchanging a glance before Spite waved his sister off.

"Who was he?" Chilon asked.

"Useless dog. Deluded into believing the lies of the Immaculate One," Spite replied. "Pay him no heed."

"I firmly agree," Aranea chimed. "Still, was Baron Dominic not amongst the dead?"

Thales looked at Aranea carefully, "And why is this baron of such importance?"

"Alongside the Nabatean Cichol, Mortis reported the most contact with Gregory Dominic during the Council of Fhirdiad," Aranea explained. "I believe he would recognize her on sight."

"He's also a troublesome figure," Spite added. "Our records indicate that he's the current keeper of the corpse blade Crusher."

"Does he have any reason to seek out the Black Eagles Strike Force or the Adrestian Empire in general?" Chilon asked, his arms crossed firmly against his chest.

"Two reasons," Spite replied, his face grim. "Firstly, his blood relationship to a certain Annette Fantine Dominic would give him reason to attempt to contact the Adrestian Empire."

"And second, his territory was besieged by a certain Death Knight," Aranea finished for her brother. "It's possible that he's already met with his niece already met, with him in chains."

"Where would they have placed him?" Chilon asked. "Garreg Mach?"

"Almost certainly," Spite said. "Which is why sending Mortis there is incredibly dangerous. One chance encounter and she is in the hands of our enemies."

"But the opposite would be to send her into the hands of the rebel Gloucester, making her useless as an intelligence asset," Aranea said.

Spite nodded, "And even then, there is no guarantee that Gloucester wouldn't sell her to the Empire regardless."

Thales nodded, "Very well then. You have my permission to have her break out."

"Of course," Spite offered as he turned back to his radio.

* * *

"What are our plans?" Ashe asked as they sat in the command tent, the group increasingly silent as the sun stood at its apex.

"There are two things we must do," Ingrid said, her eyes turned to Sylvain and Felix.

"We're all ears." Sylvain said with a shake of his head. "Not much else we can do."

"The two of you are our best riders," Ingrid pointed out grimly. "You will ride after Ferdinand to ensure that news of this strike force reaches Garreg Mach and Enbarr."

"But what about you?" Sylvain asked, his face showing visible concern. "What are you going to do?"

"We need to scout out Conand Tower," Ingrid said, her tips tight. "Get an accurate troop count of the forces that we are facing there."

"I'll go with you," Ashe offered. "I'm not really comfortable in the camp anyways."

"So what should I do?" Caspar asked. "Stand guard over a chained prisoner?"

"We need someone to remain here to talk with the Duscar," Sylvain reminded his companions. "And no, it's not going to be Ingrid."

"I can help with that, but I don't possess the authority needed to lead negotiations," Douglas replied. "Perhaps Anna can help?"

"Knowing her prices, they'll flee in terror," Felix snickered. "And then she'll hunt them down and force them to buy her stuff."

"They'll need Ashe to save them then, so Ashe, hurry back from your mission," Sylvain said with a laugh. "Anna's victims need you to save them!"

"I'm not so sure guys," Caspar said. "What if they don't take me seriously?"

"They will," Douglas interjected, patting the younger man on the shoulder. "You are the general here after all."

* * *

Yurius grimaced as he staggered through the rough roads leading back to Myrddin, his feet already suffering a dozen cuts as the guards around him forced their barefoot captives forward.

"Hurry up!"

Yurius winced as Ignatz cried out, the sound of a weapon smashing against the young man.

"Enough!" Lorenz roared, his sudden rage making the guards pause. "You will not abuse them further, you honourless dogs!"

The lead guard slammed a pike into Lorenz, doubling the man over as Yurius stood in silent horror.

"Get moving!" another guard barked as he shoved Yurius forward, the Agarthan swordsman staggering before he found his balance.

"You- you are dogs," Lorenz gasped, his face still lined in pain.

"And you're a traitor to your father," the lead guard snarled. "You turned your back on the man who raised you, the territory your ancestors watched for generations, and the people you have known all your life."

"Silence!" Lorenz bellowed, his outburst stunning the guard into stopping for a moment.

"All for a murderous empress," another guard snarled. "And you call us dogs?"

"Let's hurry up," another guard chimed in. "Count Gloucester would be furious if his guests of honour were late."

"You heard the man," a guard snarled as he hauled Ignatz to his feet. "You hold us up, and we'll make a lot of trouble for you."

* * *

"Gregory, I want you to see this," Seteth called as he entered the dining hall, wiping a sheen of sweat from his brow as his brother glanced up.

"You've found something important?" Indech asked, his face concerned as he took a piece from Linhardt.

Seteth shook his head, "Have either of you seen Baron Dominic?"

"Was this what you wanted to show him?" Linhardt asked. "You ran from the breakfast table rather quickly."

Seteth nodded weakly as he placed a cloth wrapped object on the table.

"Seteth-" Linhardt interrupted. "What are you doing with the Athame?"

Seteth swallowed, "I was informed by Baron Dominic that a subordinate of Cornelia's carried a particularly distinctive knife."

"But how could the Athame have slipped out from Garreg Mach?" Linhardt asked. "That dagger hasn't left these walls since Jeralt-"

"Seteth," Gregory Dominic called from a nearby staircase. "I believe that you've found what you wanted to show me."

Seteth paused before he began to unwrap the murder weapon of Jeralt Eisner.

Linhardt grimaced as he tore his gaze from the dagger, his discomfort visible on his face as he moved away from the table, his game forgotten.

"May I hold it?" Gregory asked as he examined the blade on the table, his fingers tracing the deadly edge of the weapon.

"It's Agarthan," Indech observed grimly. "That much is obvious."

Gregory paused as he held the blade, slowly raising and lowering the blade, as if testing the weapon's weight.

"I only saw the original dagger through afternoon light," Gregory informed the other two men. "May I hold it to a window?"

Seteth nodded, "If it can allow you to confirm its identity."

Gregory nodded as he held the dangerous dagger by the tip, his eyes following the light of the setting sun as he examined the long blade.

"Father?" Flayn called. "Uncle Indech?"

"Hello Ceth- erm Flayn," Indech said, a beaming smile present as he looked upon his niece.

"Hello uncle," Flayn said as she entered the hall. "We caught a very large fish today."

"That's good," Indech said, nodding to Raphael as the tall man walked in. "We were just confirming something."

Gregory nodded as he turned back to the group, his face grim.

"Father?" Flayn asked, her voice frightened. "Is- is that?"

"Gregory, please, do not frighten my daughter."

"Oh," Gregory said, suddenly aware of the presence of the dagger in the company of Flayn. "I apologize."

"Nevermind," Seteth said as Gregory returned the dagger, the green haired man hurriedly wrapping the dagger back into its cloth prison. "I'll return this to where I found it."

"Father," Flayn said, her voice hard. "Why did you need to show him that dagger?"

"Because I met someone during the Council of Fhirdiad who had the exact same blade," Gregory replied, his face turned to Flayn as he spoke. "At the time, I thought nothing of it, but as time goes on, it appears to be more and more significant."

Flayn took a step back, her hand reaching her heart as she swallowed.

"Gregory, please, that's enough. We'll talk about this later." Seteth pleaded. "There are other things to attend to."

"No father," Flayn said, her voice hard. "I need to know about this. Who was this person with another Athame?"

Gregory exchanged a glance with Seteth, the green haired man giving a weak nod before Gregory continued.

"Her name was Mortis, a Dark Knight under the service of Lady Cornelia," Gregory said, his face grim. "Mortis would act as Cornelia's representative in the Council."

"And she had an exact copy of the Athame," Seteth finished.

"Which is without a doubt a weapon of Agarthan manufacture," Indech added. "And one of superior craftsmanship."

"Raphael, did you ever fight any Dark Knights in the siege of Arianrhod?" Gregory asked the blond man. "Particularly close to Cornelia?"

Ralphael shook his head, "Nope. We fought a few knights, but they were all men."

"Could she still be out there then?" Seteth asked, his voice tight.

"Almost certainly," Gregory said, his face hard. "If she serves your enemies, then we must be on guard."

* * *

The ruling Septet was silent as Spite swallowed, his face hard as he pulled his headset away from his head, with Aranea taking the ancient machine from her brother as Spite downed a gulp of cold tea.

"Periander," Thales observed. "You are nervous"

"I am," Spite admitted. "There is much at risk here."

Thales nodded, "That is why I will allow you to take a field position, should you request it."

Spite exchanged a glance with Aranea before he nodded, "I will act as Shambhala dictates."

"Very well then," Thales said. "I will have you retake an examination."

Spite blinked at the order, "Pardon?"

"Allow me to finish," Thales said, his voice hard. "You will take your previous title of Verrat."

Spite frowned, but nodded regardless, "May I ask why?"

Thales nodded, "I will send you and a small task force to recover the hearts of the task force entrusted to Bias."

Spite frowned, but nodded, "And the Mortis situation?"

"We will keep you informed when you return," Thales said. "Have faith in your apprentice, you were her mentor after all."

Spite nodded, "Should I leave to prepare?"

"The test is merely a formality," Thales replied. "I trust you will have no problem with it."

Spite nodded, "In that case, I will leave to prepare for my mission."

* * *

Aranea swallowed as her brother left the room, the air silent as she flipped through her brother's hastily scribbled notes.

"Pittacus?" Thales asked.

"My lord?" Aranea replied, glancing up at the leader of the Septet. "Is there a way I can be of service?"

"But of course," Thales replied. "Commence the protocols to bring back the Thief King."

Aranea blinked, "I- why?"

"Is the answer not obvious?" Thales asked, his voice with interest. "We will need his powers for the upcoming war."

Aranea shook her head, "But why leave my brother out of it? He's far more familiar with the vaults than I am."

"That is correct, but none of the Septet is as capable at the task of corpse disposal than your brother is," Thales said. "His returning to the title of Verrat shall grant him the power to burn away any trace of our failure from this world."

Aranea frowned, "But what of the Lord of the Lake? Should there not be a task force sent there as well?"

"It would be rather difficult to recover the dead while on the same battlefield as that blasted Nabatean," Thales replied. "However, I do not believe that the Lord of the Desert has stayed long amongst our dead."

Aranea nodded, "What of our forges? What of our weaponsmiths?"

"Both are problems that can be taken care of at a later date," Thales replied. "But regardless, the summoning of Nemesis will be a priority."

* * *

Mortis watched the town come apart silently from the side of the hotel, her Athame pressed against the small of her back.

"Down with the Empire!"

Mortis glanced at the mob of youths that had shouted the challenge, their youthful faces indicating that they had never served on the battlefield.

"Spoiled brats," Mortis muttered. "Running headfirst into a slaughter."

But the crowd didn't see her, not with the smoke choking the streets and their own youthful excitement.

When the crowd passed, Mortis slipped from her place of protection, her stride confident as she followed the crowd.

As she approached the imperial side of the bridge, Mortis frowned as she raised a hand to cover her mouth, the bitter smoke choking the crowd even as they chanted against the imperial army at the opposite end of the blockade.

"Make way!" a soldier shouted from behind her. "The Count Gloucester demands you make way!"

Mortis took a moment to step aside, her eyes watching the crowd for any potential surprises as she allowed a tall labourer block her line of sight, though she grimaced at the unbearable stench leaving the giant of a man.

"Death to the emperor!" the crowd roared, the air shaking as Count Gloucester passed the crowd, his frame wearing the unmistakable armour of House Gloucester.

Mortis closed her eyes and exhaled, her teeth clenched as the crowd around her gasped.

She flinched when she opened her eyes again, her fingers reaching for her Athame as she watched the pitiful convoy marched through the streets.

When her eyes met those of Yurius, her fingers wrapped tightly around her dagger, a spiteful curse escaping her clenched teeth.

Mortis cursed in Agarthan, her nails digging deep into her palms as she tore her gaze from her partner.

When the crowd moved to follow the ceremony, Mortis had already turned, her slender frame unmissed by the maddened crowd.

* * *

"Alright then," Sylvain said as he got onto his horse. "Night ride it is."

"You're too loud," Felix grumbled as he stepped forward. "Let's get this mess over with."

"We'll head out too," Ingrid said, now mounted on an unarmoured horse. "Sylvain, behave. I don't want to return to learn that you tried your tricks on yet another hapless girl."

Felix snorted, "I'll make sure the idiot gets to his location on time, and without having flirted with your grandmother."

"And you Felix, no challenging people to duels," Ingrid warned. "You're going to send a message to Garreg Mach and Enbarr, not to pick a fight with someone."

Felix rolled his eyes as he turned away, "Yes, mother, I know."

"Do you think Annette will sing for you if you arrive covered in blood?" Ingrid challenged.

"I'm sure he'll sing for her either way," Sylvain laughed as Felix snapped around, grabbing at Sylvain.

"Both of you!" Ingrid shouted. "That's enough! Get on with your mission before I send you packing personally!"

Ingrid's threat caused Sylvain to flee, Felix hot on his heels as the two men made a beeline for the road that would lead to Garreg Mach.

"Trouble with them?" Ashe asked as he left the tent, a quiver full of arrows at the ready as he mounted his horse.

"You know it," Ingrid groaned as Ashe pulled up next to her. "How about you? Are your men content with being left out of this?"

Ashe shook his head, "They're concerned for me, but this is something I have to do myself. They're all tired from the last expedition anyways."

Ingrid nodded, "So what are you thinking? Just examine the tower?"

Ashe shook his head, "Conand Tower should have a forest in the vicinity. We should be fine to observe from there."

Ingrid nodded as she urged her mount into a trot, the two of them riding in a comfortable silence.

* * *

**AN:** Chapter 23 is complete.

Review, Follow, etc.

**Next time:**

Road Trip.

Farmer and the Viper.

Corpse Eater.

Gishin'anki

Magna Carta


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Para Bellum Part 2.

* * *

Ferdinand winced as he dismounted, the moon above bright as he nodded to the two guards at the gate.

"General von Aegir," the guard to his left said with a nod. "Welcome back to Garreg Mach."

"It's good to see you," Ferdinand replied. "Are any members of the Black Eagles here?"

The guard frowned, "Half the task force is still in Garreg Mach, who in particular are you seeking out?"

"Is professor Manuela here?" Ferdinand asked, waving over the other members of the group. "Or Linhardt?"

The guard shook his head, "General Casagranda left for Enbarr some time ago, but General von Herving is present."

Ferdinand nodded, "It would be appreciated if we could speak to him."

"He should still be in his room," the other guard chimed in. "Though he may be in the mess hall along with Seteth."

"Seteth is here?" Yuri asked, his face surprised. "I thought he disappeared."

"He returned only a few days ago," the first guard replied. "Arrived with Flayn."

Ferdinand nodded as Yuri waved the rest of the former Ashen Wolves forward.

"Hilda still here?" Balthus asked, his arms firmly crossed against his chest.

"Lady Goneril is present," the second guard offered quickly. "Though her injuries have yet to fully heal."

Balthus nodded at the answer, "Infirmary then."

"Is the Bert or Eddy here?" Hapi asked, taking a moment to stretch her legs.

The guard blinked, "Pardon?"

"Hubert or Edelgard," Ferdinand translated in turn, a weak smile on his face.

"Um, no, we believe both of them are in Enbarr, but we aren't sure."

"Chatterbox?" Hapi asked.

"The professor isn't here." Linhardt said, his face tired as he waved the group forward. "Please, come in."

"We've found something important," Yuri interrupted. "We found a body with an intact symbol of our enemy."

Linhardt frowned as Yuri handed him a black strip of cloth, his eyes scanning the damaged icon before he shook his head.

"Nothing then?" Yuri asked.

Linhardt shook his head again, "I'm afraid not, I've never seen this icon before."

"Do you believe that Seteth would know about it?" Yuri asked as the group began a quick stroll to the Officer's Academy. "Or perhaps Hubert?"

Linhardt slowed to ponder the question, "Hubert is more likely, but he's not here."

"Where's Seteth then?" Constance asked, "He's here, isn't he?"

"I am," Seteth replied, stepping before the group from a side street. "I was taking a walk trying to find a restaurant that Flayn enjoyed when I heard my name."

"Do you recognize this?" Constance asked, tearing the cloth from Linhardt. "We found it on a dead soldier in Arianrhod."

"By Sothis," Seteth replied, his hands shaking as he saw the emblem on the cloth. "You found this in Arianrhod?"

"A dead soldier," Yuri confirmed. "Looked like a personal guard of Cornelia's."

"Agartha," Seteth whispered, his eyes vacant. "To think they had gotten so close."

"Seteth?" Constance asked, her voice concerned.

"I must reflect on this," Seteth stammered, turning on his heel. "Pardon me."

"If there's anything you need to tell us, we're here to listen," Ferdinand promised, his eyes meeting those of Seteth.

Seteth nodded before he turned away, his stride uncertain as he walked into the night.

* * *

"Mortis?" Maya asked the magister kneeling at the centre of the floor.

Mortis turned at the sound of the girl's voice, taking a moment to hide her dagger within the folds of her cloak.

"Maya," Mortis snarled, shutting her trunk as she rose to her feet. "What are you doing here?"

"Ignatz-"

"Yes, I know Ignatz has been captured," Mortis snapped. "And you know very well that even I'm incapable of getting him out of there."

Maya swallowed, "Then what are you going to do?"

"I'm leaving for Garreg Mach." Mortis replied.

"You can't leave!" Maya protested. "Everyone else has been captured!"

"And by staying, I either join them in chains or end up in a shallow grave," Mortis sneered. "And if I get to Garreg Mach, won't your brother's army come and crush this puny rebellion?"

A spot of light dawned in Maya's eyes as she seemed stunned at the realization.

"Now, can I guarantee your co-operation in this matter?" Mortis asked, pulling her trunk forward as she towered over the girl.

"What about Evi?" Maya asked. "We still haven't found her yet."

Mortis gave Maya a look of disgust, her lips curled into a hideous snarl.

Maya flinched at the look on the older woman's face before she stepped away.

"If we were to run into Evi," Mortis growled. "Then it's almost certain that she's become our enemy."

Maya swallowed, "But what if-"

Mortis growled as she drew her Athame, the tip of the wicked dagger mere inches from Maya's nose as Mortis sank into a crouch.

"Let me be very clear, Maya Kristen," Mortis snarled, her patience spent. "Even if Evi wasn't openly hostile to us, then she would only slow us down and make us more visible."

"But-"

"If you can't promise me that you won't try to chase her if we came across her, then I'll kill you right now," Mortis whispered, the point of Athame pressing against Maya's cheek. "And I promise you, a quick death at my hands will be much less painful than what the Count Gloucester can promise you."

"I- I promise," Maya spluttered, taking a small step back as Mortis rose to her full height.

"Good, then we have nothing left to discuss."

* * *

"Spite?" the soldier asked as the former overlord of Shambhala approached the table, his black robes exchanged for a white set.

"Percival," Spite replied. "I have need of your squadron."

The man blinked in surprise, rising from his table as his fellow card players watched in awe.

"Finish your game," Spite said, nodding to the others. "It shouldn't be more than a few turns before this game ends."

Percival swallowed before he sat back down in his seat, a single card slipping out from his hands as the rest of the table fell into silence.

"Bastard," a soldier muttered, throwing her hand forward. "How are any of us going to play that?"

"You aren't," a third soldier scoffed, patting Percival on the back as he rose from his seat. "Now, come on, Spite wants you for something."

* * *

"Is there something that I've done wrong?" Percival asked as he followed Spite through the halls of Shambhala. "Did someone from my squad do something?"

Spite shook his head as he reached a distant meeting room, three squadron leaders already assembled before the two latecomers.

"What's going on?" Percival whispered to the mage next to him as he slid into his seat.

"All in due time, Percival," Spite said as he took his seat at the head of the table. "I've gathered you here for a potentially dangerous mission."

The room fell silent as Spite watched each commander in the ensuing silence.

"Very well then," Spite said after meeting the eyes of each soldier. "I trust all of you are aware of our northern expedition?"

A murmur rose from the assembled ranks of the force as nervous glances were exchanged.

"There is no need to panic," Spite said, waving the assembled soldiers down. "The chance of encountering hostile forces is rather low, but in the event that we do encounter one, the enemy will likely consist of an overwhelming enemy."

"What is this enemy we are looking for?" Percival asked. "Sorry, I wasn't well informed on the objectives of the northern expedition."

"Do you even read your briefing memos?" Talos asked. "The northern expedition was sent to kill the blasted Nabatean Macuil."

"When was this memo sent?" Percival asked, his face sheepish. "I might have been away from base when it was sent."

"Talos, Percival," Spite said, his voice serious. "Enough bickering. Percival, I expect in the future that you will catch up with internal memos after returning from your missions, Talos, I am perfectly capable of speaking for myself."

"Right," Talos muttered. "Sorry about that."

"Some days ago, the task force stationed at the fortification known as Conand Tower went dark," Spite said. "We believe it was destroyed by either the Imperial Army or by Macuil himself."

"That force was three hundred men strong!" a magister protested.

"Lead by Bias herself," Spite added. "Which is why I'm assembling such a large force to investigate the situation."

"And if they were wiped out?" Talos asked.

"It would depend on if there was a rearguard left in the area," Spite replied. "If so, we slaughter the rearguard and destroy whatever evidence we can."

"And if not?" Percival asked.

"Then we determine just exactly what happened there," Spite said. "And then we destroy the evidence left behind by the battle."

"And what if the task force is still fine?"

Spite turned to watch the magister who had spoken out, "Then we demand answers to why Bias has failed to respond to the hails of Thales."

"Oh," the magister said. "Alright then."

"We will depart at daybreak tomorrow morning," Spite said. "Gather a guard with you and meet me in the Machine Hall at daybreak."

"How many men should we bring?" Talos asked. "It's very late and we have only a short amount of time to collect our forces."

"Understandable," Spite replied. "Bring four soldiers each with you."

"Any preferences?" Talos asked as he rose from his seat. "Archers? Defenders?"

"Ranged hunters," Spite said as he leaned into his chair. "And those with strong stomachs."

* * *

The crowd before the grim faced garrison parted as the leader of the traitor force marched forward, the presence of the Count causing the assembled shield wall to tighten.

"Gloucester!" shouted an old soldier, his officer's armour dented from years of service. "Surrender quietly! The emperor is capable of mercy!"

Count Gloucester stood in the centre of his rebel army, his face grim as he stared at the imperial legion blockading the opposite end of the bridge.

"I do not serve your emperor," Count Gloucester replied. "I serve the County of Gloucester first, last, and always!"

"And you would bring your county into the fires of war?" the soldier snapped in turn. "You would drag the people your ancestors swore to protect into the fires of war?"

Count Gloucester turned to face the imperial general, his aged face a mask of hatred.

"I have served the County of Gloucester since the day I was born, and I will do so until the day I die." Count Gloucester declared. "Just as my father before me and his father before him."

"And yet you feed your people into the fires of war," the general shouted. "What of the honour you have always preached? What example are you showing to your successor?"

Count Gloucester turned to the man at the mention of his son, his eyes raging as the crowd behind him shifted, revealing the chained form of Lorenz Hellman Gloucester.

"You bastards have poisoned my son's mind," Count Gloucester hissed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You have turned him against his people."

"General Gloucester serves all of Fodlan now, not just your county," the general snarled. "His courage was greater than yours, and now that you've thrown your honour into the mud, his honour will forever be greater than yours."

The crowd roared at the insult, the front line of rioters surging forward as Count Gloucester raised an arm to stop the mob.

"Your words are empty," Count Gloucester said at last, raising a clenched fist as the crowd behind him roared with approval. "Your empire is a rotting carcass led by poisoned worms."

The imperial general said nothing.

"When House Ordelia stood up for the refugees who marched from the lands of Hrym, your empire cast them into the mud," Count Gloucester called out. "Did you know that?"

The legion before him stood silent, the ranks of soldiers shifting as Count Gloucester marched forward.

"When your magisters stole the eight children of House Ordelia, they returned the corpses of seven," Count Gloucester snarled. "And now you've stolen the last child to serve your own ends."

"And now you've done the same with my son," Count Gloucester said. "You corrupt all you-"

"Sir!" a voice shouted from the midst of the crowd. "The town hall is burning!"

Count Gloucester snarled as he turned back to the imperial general before him, his face burning in rage as he stormed away from the bridge, the crowd withdrawing slowly as they rushed to face the fire.

* * *

Mortis watched as the first wave of rescuers rushed the building, buckets of water splashing against the burning timbers and shattered windows frames.

"Are you sure that we had to do that?" Maya asked the older woman as she glanced back at the burning building. "Couldn't we get their attention another way?"

"I did it because it would distract them," Mortis snarled as she held up a shard of shattered glass. "And because I hate them."

"Surely-"

"They're scum, Maya," Mortis growled. "By raising the flag of rebellion against their rightful rulers, they've forfeited their right to life and mercy."

Maya swallowed, her pace slowly as she lugged the heavy chest forward.

"Be careful, we're close to the blockade," Mortis said, glancing at the mirror again. "I trust you remember what you do once we cross it?"

"Run to imperial lines," Maya repeated. "I'll be safe alongside the imperials."

"That's right," Mortis replied. "They're not going to be able to climb over a burning blockade, not without suffering from the fire."

"And if they're already on the other side of the blockade?" Maya asked. "I mean, what if they try to stop us?"

"I believe you know the answer to that as well as I do," Mortis replied, her eyes watching the street leading to the blockade. "If they get in our way, I will kill every last one of them."

* * *

The Officer's Academy was silent as Yuri stepped back into the central dining hall, finding his way to the lone table occupied, nodding to Ferdinand as he sat down.

"You've arrived in time," Seteth said as he exchanged a glance with another man at the table. "Allow me to introduce my brother Indech."

Yuri extended his hand as the stranger rose from his seat, the two men exchanging a firm handshake before they sat down.

"We'll share whatever information we can," Indech promised as he sat down. "So long as we can defeat this… common foe."

Ferdinand nodded as he glanced at the two Nabateans, the air around them falling quiet as the two sides exchanged wary glances.

"I suppose we'll start first," Ferdinand said. "Apart from two dead soldiers wearing this insignia, we've noted two times where this insignia has come to our notice."

"When were these?" Seteth asked, his eyes boring into Ferdinand. "And where, if you don't mind us asking?"

"Sylvain said he noticed a woman wearing the insignia during the summer of 1177," Ferdinand said, his face grim as he recounted the memory. "She was walking along-"

"Cornelia Armin?" Seteth asked, his face tight.

"Correct." Ferdinand said. "The regent of Arianrhod."

"Did Sylvain ever… describe this individual?" Seteth asked, his eyes watching Ferdinand as the face of Mortis flashed through his mind. "Physical appearance? Age?"

"Sylvain… well, I'm sure you are all aware of his… tendencies, particularly around women." Ferdinand explained, his face uncomfortable. "To paraphrase his words, he described the woman to be very beautiful."

Indech frowned before Seteth turned and whispered into his ear, the green haired man grimacing in disgust at the words.

"During the Council of Firdiad, Cornelia sent a representative to attend," Seteth said. "Her name was Mortis."

Ferdinand shook his head, "Sylvain never mentioned a name apart from that of Cornelia."

"I see," Seteth replied. "Mortis, if the words of Baron Dominic are true, was a skilled knight but-"

"But what?" Yuri asked, his eyes turned to watch Seteth.

"There were two things of note," Seteth said. "First, we did not have, and still do not possess any documentation of her origins."

Yuri frowned, "The kingdom was very serious about keeping up with their knights, that shouldn't be possible."

Seteth shook his head, "To my knowledge, we were never able to determine where she had been knighted, or even where her suit of armour had been crafted."

Yuri shook his head, "Armour can be forged by any blacksmith skilled and unscrupulous enough to be bought out."

"Or stolen from the dead," Ferdinand added, his lips tight. "Douglas, a former bandit under Miklan, mentioned to me that he had once robbed a grave."

Seteth nodded, though he grimaced at the mention of grave robbery, "Regardless, the point stands. This Mortis was a ghost, and unless she was slain in the fall of Arianrhod,

"What was the second point that made her suspicious?" Ferdinand asked. "Did she do something that made her stand out?"

"Second, she possessed an exact copy of Athame."

"Kronya's Athame?" Yuri asked, his voice low. "The one used to murder Jeralt?"

"Baron Dominic swore by it," Seteth replied. "Though he saw the dagger only once, he identified the blade as a mirror copy of the Athame."

"Did anyone else see the blade?" Ferdinand asked. "Could he have been mistaken?"

"I know that Gregory Dominic is an honourable man, and I believe him fully," Seteth replied. "As for your question on the blade, the answer is no. Mortis ensured that the blade was never seen again after Baron Dominic saw it."

Ferdinand nodded, his face tight, "Do you believe that this Mortis could have been the same soldier escorting Cornelia in 1177?"

Seteth paused at the question, exchanging a glance with his brother before turning back to the group, "I cannot say for certain, for only Sylvain himself can confirm what he saw, but judging from the common connection with Cornelia, I believe Mortis is the same guard Sylvain saw all those years ago."

"What was the second instance of you encountering this icon?" Indech asked as Seteth took a long sip of tea.

"During the Insurrection of the Seven, a cabal of soldiers were wearing the uniform in Enbarr," Ferdinand explained. "To my knowledge, they were not part of the forces of General Bergliez."

Seteth nodded as he set down his tea, explaining the event to his brother in hushed tones.

"Seteth, may I ask you something?" Linhardt asked, his eyes turning to Seteth as he spoke. "It's about something that I've always been wanting to talk to you about."

"Yes Linhardt?" Seteth asked. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

"Do you know of any way to reverse blood reconstruction?"

Both Seteth and Indech recoiled from the question, the men sharing horrified looks.

"Linhardt, why are you asking such a question?" Seteth asked after recovering an ounce of his composure. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"Lysithea underwent the process while her house was subjugated by House Hyrm," Linhardt explained. "As of now, she possesses two Crests-"

"By all means, a human should not bear more than one Crest," Indech stated. "To do so would be to condemn the individual in question to a short life of unimaginable agony."

"Edelgard has two Crests," Ferdinand said. "I never thought anything of it."

"She does?" Seteth asked. "Unless-"

"Unless what?" Yuri asked.

"Blood reconstruction was an Agarthan technique used to cure those with chronic diseases of their ailments," Indech said. "Though it may be possible to use it to implant an individual with a Crest."

"Such a procedure would almost certainly cause the subject to undergo terrible agony," Seteth argued with his brother. "And even if a host doesn't reject the blood outright, there's no chance they will survive the process."

"May I say something?" Ferdinand asked, interrupting the two men before him.

"I suppose so," Seteth replied. "What is it?"

"Edelgard once had ten siblings," Ferdinand said. "Most did not survive the Insurrection."

Seteth swallowed as he turned to face Linhardt, "And what of Lysithea? How many siblings did she possess?"

"Seven," Linhardt said. "All dead."

"By Sothis," Indech whispered. "The Agarthans have weaponized blood reconstruction."

* * *

The send off party at the Machine Hall was tiny, only the forms of Odesse and Aranea standing alongside Spite, the latter in quiet conversation in Old Agarthan as Talos hurried through the door, half dragging a soldier behind him as he walked.

"Good morning, Talos." Spite said in greeting as the other soldier saluted his superior. "I trust you did not have difficulty in finding your warband?"

Talos shook his head, "I found three men playing dice in a corner, shame they had such a hard time waking up today."

"I do not blame them," Spite said. "I did call for them on very short notice."

"May I have your attention please?" Aranea called out, clapping her hands as she spoke. "I'm going to go over your mission parameters."

"Are we all assembled?" Odesse asked, his hands clasped behind his back as he spoke.

"Talos squadron present at full strength."

"Percival squadron present at full strength."

"Olympia squadron present at full strength."

"Umbral squadron present at full strength."

"Vito squadron present at full strength."

"Periander, present and ready to serve."

Aranea nodded as she turned to the five lines of soldiers standing in the Machine Hall, "Periander, your objective will be to reach the last known location of our Northern Strike Force and investigate the site."

"As you command," Spite replied. "What are our objectives in the event we find her spirit?"

"Your warband has been provided with enough blood and magic to return anyone you deem necessary for the completion of your mission," Aranea replied. "See to it that you return quickly."

Spite nodded as he turned back to the group behind him, "When the portal to Zaharas opens, move quickly, we cannot risk leaving behind soldiers due to a lack of speed."

Aranea nodded as she began a chant, a black stone within her hands crackling with power as the ritual reached its climax.

And then the air shimmered as a portal into Zaharas opened, the rift widening to a size that a grown man could have stepped through.

"_Glory to Agartha,_" Spite said to his sister as he stepped through the gate.

"_Glory to Agartha,_" Aranea replied as the crowd behind Spite marched through the gate, the ranks surging forward as Aranea forced more of her power into the rift, forcing the gate to remain wide as the last of the soldiers hurried through.

It was only when the rift had begun to falter did Aranea take a deep breath, wiping a sheen of sweat from her brow as she watched the portal to Zaharas fold and collapse.

"_Glory to Agartha,_" Aranea repeated as she turned away from the Machine Hall, hurrying as she left for Vault November.

* * *

Maya woke with a start, blinking the sleep from her eyes as she staggered to her feet, a primal fear gnawing at her as she glanced around.

"You're awake," Mortis said to her left.

"What's going on?" Maya asked as she glanced at the strange machine that Mortis wore. "Did I fall asleep?"

"You did," Mortis replied. "Still, no matter. You missed very little over the night."

"I-" Maya started.

"No, no. Sorry, I wasn't talking to you. The brat is awake."

"Pardon?" Maya asked as Mortis waved her off.

"We can begin now," Mortis said, having turned away from Maya. "We're ready to break out."

"Who are you talking to?" Maya asked.

Mortis replied with a guttural sign off before she removed the headpiece, taking a moment to shove the alien machine back into the confines of her trunk.

"What are you doing?" Maya asked as Mortis moved to the side of their hideout, the older woman watching the area with calculated interest.

"I'm going to create a distraction," Mortis explained as she rose to her full height. "It should draw enough guards out to allow us to make our escape."

"Why now?" Maya asked. "We could come back later and there'll be fewer guards."

"True," Mortis replied. "But whatever guards now have been deprived of sleep by their excitement to rebel against the empire. Combine that with another burning building, and that's enough confusion to get us over the barricade."

"You- you're going to set another building on fire?" Maya asked.

"My superiors informed me that a old church is present within the area," Mortis replied. "As far as they were concerned, it was entirely made of wood."

"But what if there are people inside?" Maya asked. "Children even."

"Good," Mortis replied. "More reason for more guards to come running."

Maya swallowed as Mortis lit a fire in her palm, the tongues of flame dancing as Mortis turned away.

"I won't be long now," Mortis said. "Ensure my trunk is ready to move when I return."

* * *

"I thought I told them to clean up after themselves," Ashe said, his voice apologetic. "Clearly I didn't check well enough."

Ingrid shook her head as she yawned, "I suppose it's to be expected, we packed up the camp and left in a rush."

"We did," Ashe replied. "Still, I feel responsible, they are under my command after all."

Ingrid paused at Ashe's words, "Did I ever tell you the time Sylvain and Felix went camping?"

Ashe raised an eyebrow, "No, I'm sure that I've never heard that story, what happened?"

"Sylvain went into a nearby town and started talking to the first woman he saw," Ingrid said with a slight sigh.

"Ah, that sounds like him," Ashe said with a shake of the head. "What happened?"

"It wasn't a woman," Ingrid replied. "He ran back to camp screaming, trampling over the fire that Felix had just managed to light."

"And you had to apologize to the man he had accosted?" Ashe asked, raising an eyebrow. "I imagine that job had to get tiring quickly."

"I did, as usual," Ingrid said, her eyes distant. "But what reminded me of that day was that the man and his family took it in stride."

"How so?" Ashe asked, drawn into the story.

"Our son was pretty enough to seduce a count!" Ingrid said in a deep, mocking voice, "If only he could find a woman the next time!"

Ashe laughed as he turned back to the fire he had been building, "It sounds like you had fun that day."

Ingrid shook her head with a smile, "Three days later, I found out that Sylvain had hit on Count Rowe's daughter."

Ashe winced, "Lonato- Lonato just shook his head and laughed at the news, he just-"

Ingrid swallowed, her humorous tone having fallen away, "I'm sorry if I brought up any bad memories, I wasn't thinking."

Ashe shook his head, the hint of tears at the corners of his eyes as the fire roared to life, "I- I think it's better to remember Lonato when he was happy. He wouldn't have wanted me to remember him in a bad way."

Ingrid shook her head, "I shouldn't have brought it up, and for that, I'm sorry."

"No," Ashe said, his voice firm. "I- I thank you for reminding me of that. There are so precious few memories I have of Lonato smiling, and now, I have one more."

Ingrid swallowed as Ashe rose to his feet.

"I'm going to find us something to eat," Ashe said, his back turned to Ingrid. "Try to get some sleep."

"Right," Ingrid whispered as her partner hurried away, her eyes following the fleeing figure of Ashe as he disappeared behind the tree line.

* * *

"Are we ready to leave?" Mortis asked as she returned to Maya, her arms crossed around her midriff as she watched the barricade in the distance.

"I- maybe not?" Maya asked. "What if Evi's still here?"

"Then she's either a traitor or in chains," Mortis replied. "And any attempt you make in trying to help her will most likely result in your death."

Maya swallowed, "But I have to try!"

"No you don't," Mortis replied as she dragged the trunk forward, the bridge. "Now, be quiet, we'll only have a single chance to make it across the barricade.

Maya closed her eyes as she inched closer to Mortis, her hands finding the heavy trunk as she leaned against the wall behind her.

"Guards are moving to react," Mortis said. "On my mark, run. I'll dispatch the rest of the guards."

Maya shook her head, "But what about Evi? What if she's still hiding?"

Mortis gave the smaller woman a look of disbelief as Maya puffed out her chest, her arms crossed around her midsection.

"We don't go unless we find Evi," Maya declared. "I will not leave my friend behind."

"Then get out of my sight." Mortis snarled as she stormed at the handful of guards still at the edge of the bridge. "I have no use for fools."

* * *

The first guard still at the bridge didn't see Mortis coming.

It was a man, wielding a long pike and a bright yellow tunic, his back having been turned to the agarthan, perhaps looking for an attack from the imperial regiment on the other side of the barricade.

"Die," Mortis hissed as she raised her free hand, a powerful orb of darkness slamming into the soldier's vulnerable neck.

The attack sent her victim sprawling forward, his pike clattering to the stones as the man crumpled to the ground, his neck bent at an unnatural angle.

The other guards were not as helpless as the dead man, for the four remaining soldiers formed up in a shield wall as they regrouped.

"Banshee," Mortis snarled as she brought the might of the arcane to bear.

It only took a single attack for the group to be overwhelmed by the magic they were subjected to, two of the soldiers crumpling to the ground as the magic orbs shattered their necks.

One of the surviving soldiers, a simple militiaman in contrast to the dead professionals at his feet, ran forward with an axe, striking a clumsy blow before Mortis sidestepped the attack, firing a ball of fire into the man's face.

Even as he recoiled from the blast, the man clawed feverishly at his burning face, his weapons forgotten as he threw himself over the barriers at the side of the bridge, screaming even as he fell into the rushing river below.

Seeing the grisly deaths of his companions, the last man standing turned and fled, running past Mortis as she dragged her trunk forward.

"Death," Mortis hissed as she unleashed the powerful spell, a smirk rising as she heard the man's scream of agony.

And then the path to the barricade was clear.

* * *

"Evi!" Maya shouted as she stumbled through the town. "Evi!"

"No!" a voice shouted, barely coherent. "Flee!"

Maya turned her gaze to the source of the noise before she followed the side street, her curiosity rewarded when Ignatz came into view, his body chained to a tall wooden post.

"Ignatz!" Maya cried out as she embraced Ignatz. "I'm so glad you're alright!"

Ignatz shook his head in turn, his hair matted with blood, "Maya, please, flee this town while you can."

"I'm not going to leave my friends!" Maya declared as she turned to wipe a streak of dirt from the man's face. "I'm not going to abandon you, I'm not going to abandon Evi! No more running!"

Ignatz shook his head as he shoved Maya back, "Please, Maya, you don't understand! Count Gloucester has started a full scale revolt!"

Maya shook her head as she buried herself into his chest, "I'm not leaving without you!"

"Maya," Ignatz said, his voice serious as he focused his gaze on Maya, his hands grasping her shoulders. "Listen to me."

"Ignatz!" Maya cried. "Stop! You're hurting me!"

"You don't understand!" Ignatz snapped. "That accident that killed your parents? Count Gloucester set the whole thing up! He killed your parents!"

Maya flinched as she stared at Ignatz, her pain forgotten, "Mom, dad- Count, Count Gloucester killed them?"

"Please Maya, return to Raphael, I won't let him lose you too," Ignatz pleaded, his voice gentler. "Run Maya, run to safety, do it for me, do it for Raphael."

"Maya- is that you?" the voice of Evi asked. "I've been looking all over for you!"

"No!" Ignatz cried as Maya turned to face Evi. "Stop, Maya! Stop!"

* * *

"Evi! Where are we going?" Maya asked as the other girl dragged her along the grand boulevard at the centre of the Great Bridge. "We have to free Ignatz!"

Evi shook her head, "I need you to meet someone."

"May I be that certain someone?" a voice called from behind the pair.

"Lord Acheron!" Evi called as she spun Maya around, her grip on the girl's arm firm. "I've caught her!"

"Is this the Mortis that we've been looking for?" Acheron asked, a grin spreading across his face. "It's so nice to meet you."

"Caught?" Maya spluttered, a sense of horror dawning on her.

"_She's either a traitor or in chains." _

"Evi, please! We can help you!" Maya pleaded. "Anything you want!"

"I'm the only one who can provide that, my dear," Acheron said. "I am her lord after all."

Maya flinched, "Mortis- Mortis was right about you."

"I would do anything for my family," Evi spat, her teeth bared in a snarl. "That's not something a rich girl like you would understand."

"Mortis!" Maya screamed, though she knew that Mortis had begun her assault on the barricade. "Help me!"

Acheron slapped her, the strike hard enough to send Maya sprawling to the ground, "Now, where is this Mortis?"

Maya whimpered, tears rolling down her face.

Acheron slapped her again.

* * *

"Who- who are you?"

Mortis winced as she climbed over the barricade, landing lightly on her feet as she turned to face the soldier on the other end of the bridge.

"Mortis, special agent of Hubert von Vestra." Mortis replied, "On assignment to monitor rebellious activity on the part of House Gloucester."

The man flinched at the name of the Minister of the Imperial Household.

"I- I see," the man, an officer from his outfit, said as he jogged forward. "How may I help you?"

Mortis grimaced, "The rebellion needs to be crushed and Gloucester needs to be made an example of."

The man nodded as he waved his battalion forward, the shield wall advancing at a cautious pace, "I'll send a rider to Garreg Mach."

"No," Mortis replied with a shake of her head. "I can go, provided there's a place to change horses along the river."

"Naturally," the officer said as Mortis walked toward the man. "Would you mind helping us clear the barricade? It's going to be hard for them to replace it."

"Gladly," Mortis replied, an orb of fire roaring to life in her hand as she turned back to face the barricade. "But I must-"

A gust of wind cut her sentence short as Mortis was thrown back, the barricade shattering into planks as a powerful wind spell slammed into it.

* * *

The sky above was blue.

She lay on the ground, her body aching in a dozen places as she forced herself to stand, her clothes shredded by the blast that had claimed her.

"Help!"

"Help?" Mortis asked herself, staggering to her knees as she looked up.

A tangled, shattered wreck stared back at her, broken beyond repair.

"The radio," Mortis whispered as she clawed at the broken machine. "No!"

"Help!"

For a moment, her world went black, her mind failing to identify the emotion rushing through her body.

"Mortis!" Maya shouted. "I'm sorry! Help me!"

The voice was distant as Mortis clutched the shattered machine, her head bowed as a new feeling filled her heart.

* * *

Athame stared back at her, the dagger's perfection a contrast to the shattered machine beside it.

He had said something the day she had received the deadly weapon.

Something.

But she couldn't remember it, not his words, not his face, not his eyes.

But she could remember the feeling in her heart.

And she remembered the feeling that came next.

* * *

"You would challenge me?" Acheron called out as the crumpled form of the woman rose up. "You would challenge Count Acheron?"

The magister's lips moved as she turned around, though Acheron heard nothing.

But he saw the look in her eyes, and that was enough.

"No!" Acheron screamed.

* * *

Acheron was mid scream when the first spike drove into his right thigh, the wound causing him to draw heavily on his reins.

To his good fortune, the sudden move spared him from being impaled by two dark spikes, the arcane silvers slamming into his horse instead.

But the dying horse did not fall back down as it might have, instead falling backward, the still screaming Acheron buried under its bulk as it landed against the stones of the grand boulevard.

The first to react to the attack was Evi, scrambling to dig the embattered lord from under his horse, even as spikes of darkness plunged into the dying horse, the animal's bulk saving Acheron from death, even as the blades of arcane tore through his animal shield.

Maya rushed forward, past her former friend as she fled, her vision teary as she ran at the figure of Mortis.

"Enough," a strong voice said as a large body blocked her way. "We need to withdraw, the entire rebel army will be here soon."

Maya glanced up, past the honest face of the soldier who held her.

Mortis held a dead look in her eyes even as a pair of soldiers forced her back, her body rigid as she was dragged back from the bridge.

It wasn't the look of disgust when she had turned her back on Maya mere minutes prior.

But it was a look that Maya hoped she would never see again.

* * *

**AN:** Early chapter. Yay. As always, review.

**Next time:**

Gemeinschaft

Underdark

Crime and Punishment

Nemesis

Cursed Legacy


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25: Para Bellum. Part 3.

* * *

Mortis sat by the side of the road as she waited for the imperial medic to heal her scrapes.

"You got lucky, my dear," the woman said as she healed away the last scrape. "A few hours of bed rest, and you should be good to go."

Mortis shook her head in turn, "I'm sorry, but I must leave soon, there is a report I have to deliver."

The medic gave her a long look, hurt evident in her eyes, "Promise me you won't strain yourself. You're going to work yourself into an early grave."

Mortis shook her head as she stood up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her head before she turned from the medic.

"Promise me that much," the medic said as Mortis left to leave. "I'm not going to let you go if you don't."

Mortis paused at the words before she turned back to the medic, observing the older woman with renewed interest.

"And why is it that you care?" Mortis asked. "Why do you care so much for my health? I'm a stranger to you."

The medic grimaced at the question as Mortis turned to leave.

"I have a sister your age," the medic said. "She works hard- too hard."

"You're projecting," Mortis observed. "You believe that I'm your sister."

The medic nodded, her lips pressed together, "Even so, I think you've gone through a lot in the past few days, I think you should rest."

Mortis shook her head as she thought of Spite and Aranea, her lips twisting into a grimace, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Lady Mortis?" a voice asked from the entrance of the tent.

"Captain," Mortis replied to the officer. "If all is in order, I'll leave for Garreg Mach."

The man nodded, "The first part of the trip can be done by carriage. Lady Kristen has informed me that you did not sleep last night."

Mortis nodded, "That's true, I spent my last night watching the guards at the barricade."

The captain nodded, "There is transportation available. Once you reach the next town down the river, you should be able to hire a horse for a night ride to Garreg Mach."

Mortis nodded as she took the information in, "And what about Maya?"

"She'll be with you, but I'm not sure she'll be comfortable with a night ride."

"She can continue on with the carriage then," Mortis replied. "Shouldn't arrive more than a day later than me."

The officer nodded, "Regardless, I wish you safe travels."

* * *

Aranea sneezed as she opened the door to Vault November, taking a moment to tighten the coat she had taken from her brother's closet.

"Are we ready to prepare the rites?" Solon asked from the far side of the machines, his frame clinging to the replacement Staff of Circe.

"Good," Thales said. "Pittacus has arrived, we can begin."

"My brother stated that we didn't all need to be here to awaken Nemesis," Aranea replied. "He said that awakening is rather easy."

"He is correct in both counts," Thales replied. "But this is a ceremony of triumph, and I wish for as many members of the Septet to witness it."

Aranea nodded, "Very well then, let us commence."

"How do we open this again?" Chilon asked from the side of one of the machines, wiping away a layer of frost from the glass. "Also, this one just has a few books inside of it."

"Books?" Solon asked. "That one should be empty."

"Periander has odd storage ideas," Thales said. "Think nothing of it."

"I apologize for my brother's storage habits," Aranea said. "Should I take those away?"

"There is no need," Thales replied. "Nemesis is our priority here."

* * *

"What in the world?"

Spite turned around as the convoy slowed and stopped, the soldier who had cried out now the focal point of attention.

"Is something wrong?" Spite asked, his eyes meeting those of the soldier. "Did you forget something?"

The man shook his head, his face pale, "No, I'm just- concerned we might be lost."

"We aren't," Spite replied, glancing around the wide open room. "If we were to surface here, we would be in the territory of House Galatea."

"Oh," the soldier said. "Sorry, a lot of us have never been down here before, and- well, it's disturbing down here."

"You mean the voices," Spite said. "Yes, it's a common part of Zahras."

"I-no," the soldier stammered. "I- I just saw a face in the darkness behind us."

"So you've met one of the denizens of Zahras then," Spite replied. "Not to worry, they can't hurt you."

"What are they?" a female soldier asked. "Ghosts?"

"In a sense," Spite replied. "Those are the souls of Agarthans throughout the ages who have been unable to find closure."

"They- they're us?"

"Talos, like I said, they cannot hurt us," Spite said, turning his gaze to the battalion leader. "They do not possess bodies, and the vast majority of them are mindless. They possess a single grudge they've held on through life."

"But that doesn't make sense," Talos replied. "How can they hold a grudge if they don't have a mind?"

"I believe it comes down to the fact that they understand a feeling of rage or remorse," Spite explained. "Simply put, these mindless ones have forgotten what it was they had a grudge against."

"Damn," a soldier said. "So what if we run into one?"

"They cannot harm you, for they do not have bodies," Spite replied. "But if you are feeling merciful, ghosts are vulnerable to magical damage."

"That's enough men," Vito said as he turned to Spite. "The more we stay and gawk at Spite, the longer we have to stay in this cursed realm."

"Then we move out." Spite replied. "We're about halfway there already."

* * *

Maya watched Mortis slumped over at the other end of the carriage, her chest rising and falling at a steady pace.

"We're here," a voice said. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize she was-"

"I'm awake now," Mortis mumbled, her eyes turning up to look at the man who had spoken. "How long until sunset?"

"Perhaps an hour at most," the man replied. "Are you sure you don't want to stay the night?"

Mortis shook her head, "I need to leave as soon as possible."

"At least let us treat you to a meal," the soldier said. "We couldn't have brought down that barrier without your help."

Mortis nodded as she stepped from the carriage, her arms folded around her waist, her eyes taking in the village before her.

"Is there anything you intend to eat here?" Maya asked as she stepped from the carriage.

"It would have to depend on what they have to offer," Mortis replied. "Perhaps a small sandwich and a cup of tea."

"There's a sauna in the tavern, should you wish to relieve yourself."

Mortis shook her head at the offer, "As much as I would like such a prospect, I must decline. Perhaps I will use the sauna in Garreg Mach once I have delivered my message."

"Will you tell my brother that I'll be coming?" Maya asked. "Will you tell him about Ignatz?"

"I'll tell the members of the Black Eagle Strike Force there," Mortis replied. "But at the end of the day, I answer only to Hubert von Vestra."

"I believe the Minister is in Enbarr," the soldier said. "Though in time, he's supposed to visit Garreg Mach."

"Too slow," Mortis replied. "The rebellion needs to be crushed at full haste, though I will leave the methods to him."

The soldier nodded, though his face was grim, "I'll do whatever I can to aid you, but first, we eat."

* * *

"Beast."

Marianne froze at the voice, her hand tightening into a fist as she turned around to face the scholar.

"You aren't supposed to be here," Marianne whispered, her eyes looking at the half-crazed face of the Crest scholar.

"Beast- did you think you could escape my eye?" the scholar hissed. "I will not rest until you are in the ground."

Marianne swallowed as she turned to Dorte, her mind wandering over if she had left any weapons within a pouch.

"For all your victims,I bring just-"

A orb of darkness cut the man off, the Crest scholar sent flying as a figure stepped from the shadows.

"Marianne," Hubert said, his face grim as he stopped next to her. "Are you injured?"

Marianne shook her head, "Hubert- what are you doing here?"

"Our convoy has simply arrived at Garreg Mach early," Hubert replied. "I heard a commotion here."

Marianne swallowed, "He- he accused me of being a beast."

"The beast that stalks the forests of Garreg Mach has been recorded since the reign of Emperor Lysander the Younger," Hubert replied. "Rest assured, you are not responsible for its many crimes."

Marianne swallowed as two guards rushed forward, seizing the man on the ground.

"Break his arms," Hubert barked. "Attacking a member of the Black Eagles Strike Force is a serious crime that deserves a vicious punishment."

"How many places?" one of the soldiers asked. "Will three places suffice?"

"Make it four." Hubert replied. "Ensure the medics turn him away."

"What is going on here?" Seteth asked as he rushed forward. "Marianne, are you alright?"

"Seteth," Hubert observed. "I believe your words were that you were going into hiding?"

"Hubert," Seteth replied, his eyes turning to Hubert. "There is no need to be snide."

"What are you doing here?" Hubert asked. "Garreg Mach would hardly constitute a hiding place, especially not with so many refugees within its walls."

"Hubert, have you secured-" Edelgard started. "Hello Seteth."

"Edelgard," Seteth replied, his tone neutral.

"You will address the Emperor of the Adrestian Empire as such," Hubert warned Seteth. "She is Lady Edelgard to you."

"Hubert, that's enough," Edelgard said. "Seteth, or rather, Cichol, what are you doing here?"

"There was a certain threat against Lady Marianne," Hubert explained, gesturing to the figure between the two soldiers. "He has been dealt with."

"Marianne, are you alright?" Edelgard asked. "Were you harmed?"

Marianne shook her head, "I'm fine. He never got close to me."

"See to it that he's disposed of," Edelgard said, giving the Crest scholar a murderous glare. "I will not tolerate attacks against my subordinates. Not now, not ever."

"El, Hubert," Byleth said as he hurried to the scene. "What happened here?"

"An attack against Lady Marianne," Hubert explained, kicking the man hoisted between the soldiers. "It has been dealt with."

Byleth nodded, turning his gaze to Seteth, "Seteth, I see that you're alive and well."

"I'm glad to say the same for you," Seteth replied. "But there is much to discuss."

"What is there to discuss?" Byleth asked. "Has something happened?"

"My brother Indech has been attacked by the scions of Agartha," Seteth admitted. "I fear an attack on Flayn as well."

The mention of the enemy chilled the air, as Byleth and Edelgard exchanged a glance.

"We will discuss this at another time," Byleth promised, though his face was dark. "But we've travelled a long time, and there are other matters at hand."

"Seteth, we will host a council tomorrow," Edelgard said. "We will discuss what to do about this entire situation."

Seteth nodded as a man rushed forward to the group.

"Kyle," Hubert acknowledged. "Is something the matter?"

"Ah, Hubert, there's a- bah!"

"Kyle," Byleth stated, placing a hand on the gatekeeper's shoulder. "Take a breath before you continue your report."

"Ah, professor!" the guard exclaimed before he turned to Edelgard, "My emperor."

"Commence with your report," Hubert reminded the man. "What is it that requires our attention?"

"There are signs of a riot in the centre of town," the guard replied. "There seems to be a rumour that the beast ravaging supply lines is a member of the Black Eagles Strike Force."

Edelgard turned to Hubert, her face lined with rage, "What was it that you had planned for him?"

"Breaking his arms in four different places," Hubert replied. "Two for each arm."

"Break his jaw," Byleth ordered. "If he's going to be running around Garreg Mach, we can't have him spreading false rumours about Marianne."

"I speak the truth!" the man protested. "You would protect a monster?"

Seteth pressed his lips together, his hands clenched into fists as he glared at the man.

"You seem like you have something to say," Byleth said as he turned to Seteth. "Is something bothering you?"

Seteth closed his eyes for a moment before he turned to the man, his fist throwing the man's head back.

Byleth exchanged a glance with Edelgard as the two guards hoisted the man up again.

"Get going," Hubert barked, waving the two guards away. "We need to meet the rest of Garreg Mach."

* * *

"Will he survive?" Count Gloucester asked the guard at the entrance to the makeshift hospital, his hands clasped behind his back as he toured the building, giving nods of encouragement to the various labourers who had put out the fires.

"We believe so," the guard said. "But the medics have stated that he'll likely never walk again. The magic used by the imperial agent was powerful, and he had lost a great deal of blood before we could rescue him."

"What was it that we recovered from the trunk?" Count Gloucester asked. "I was told that there was a matter of considerable interest inside."

"Gold bars, my lord," the guard replied. "Stamped with the sigils of House Ordelia."

"Can you be certain of this?" Count Gloucester asked as he crossed into the private bedroom of Count Acheron, the blond man sprawled on a large bed. "This is very important information."

"We can, my lord," the guard said. "It would appear to be the vast majority of the old house's treasury."

"The amount seized by the Adrestian Empire?" Count Gloucester asked.

"We cannot be sure, for the empire destroyed or stole House Ordelia's financial records."

"So be it," Count Gloucester replied. "I will let you deal with the situation. Ensure whatever gold that can be confirmed to be sourced from House Ordelia is returned."

"Of course sir, shall we leave you be with the Count?"

"Naturally," Count Gloucester replied as his subordinate hurried away.

"Edgar, I- I."

"You are unworthy of speaking my name," Count Gloucester snarled as he towered over the bedridden man. "As you are unworthy of the title on your shoulders."

"You would say that to a fellow noble of the alliance?" Acheron choked out. "You- with all your nobility?"

"You would use the word nobility?" Count Gloucester replied, raising an eyebrow. "You consider yourself a noble?"

"I am a noble!" Acheron cried. "You would dare deny that fact?"

"You have stolen and swindled your paltry gains, and your lands are rotting as we speak," Count Gloucester replied. "Your actions piss on those of your forefathers, who were the ones who earned the title you have soiled."

"You- you would say such things?" Acheron spat. "How dare you?"

"And such words from the man who sought to steal my land," Count Gloucester snarled. "The man who tried to murder my son, who fled from a battle he had been called to when the tide turned, who starves his own serfs to encourage banditry."

Acheron glared at Count Gloucester as he lay in his bed, "Bastard."

"You would call me a bastard?" Count Gloucester hissed as he seized the bedridden man's face, forcing Acheron to look into his eyes. "It was your hand that stole imperial war supplies meant for House Galatea. How many children have you condemned to an early death with your reckless greed?"

"And you were the one who rebelled!" Acheron shouted, spittle landing on the other's man's face. "You raised the flag of rebellion against the emperor! Not me!"

"Because I have the courage to recognize that one day, a spineless sycophant like you might take power. I will not condemn my lands to an unworthy ruler, not while you and cowards like you linger in the bowels of this continent."

"You, you-"

"As for my rebellion, I fight for the lost children of House Ordelia," Count Gloucester snarled, his grip tightening around the blond man's jaw. "I don't suppose you know who they were?"

Acheron said nothing, though he flailed a useless arm against Gloucester's coat.

"Lucrezia, Fiora, Maria and Tessa," Count Gloucester snarled, his face inches away from the face of the craven noble. "Dante, Marco, Antonio, do these names mean anything to you?"

Acheron was silent, his visible eye quivering in terror.

"I was there when Maria was born," Count Gloucester hissed as he leaned close to the bedridden count, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was named her godfather. I was there when they burned a pyre for her, because the imperial dogs who killed her never told her parents where they dumped her body."

"Now let me ask you," Count Gloucester whispered, his second hand crushing the exposed hand of Acheron. "Where were you when the pyre for Tessa burned? Antonio? Fiora? Little Dante, not even in his first year when his life ended?"

"Stop! Stop! My hand hurts!" Acheron managed. "My hand!"

"I was told that you spent that particular week in a whorehouse," Count Gloucester continued, his voice quiet, barely audible over Acheron's screams. "That you had not even the smallest of clues that the tragedy had unfolded."

"Count?"

Count Gloucester turned to face the messenger at the door, throwing the mewling form of Acheron off the infirmary bed, "What is it?"

"We've scanned the gold in the trunk, all from House Ordelia. It would appear the two other imperials were transporting the gold when we surprised them."

Count Gloucester nodded as he turned to the man on the bed, his face contemplative.

"Is there something we should do?" the messenger asked as he peered over the bed. "About erm, Count Acheron?"

"See to it that he's transferred to the dungeons," Count Gloucester snarled. "We have other, more important patients who require the bed."

"Noted," the messenger replied. "And what of the prisoner?"

"Separate him from my son," Count Gloucester said. "There is much I will need to… discuss with him."

"Naturally," the man said. "Are there any… conditions that Acheron be-"

"He stole grain from the hand who fed him," Count Gloucester replied. "See to it that he is fed no grain until he either recovers or dies, preferably the later."

"Good, more food for our people," the messenger said with a scoff. "I'll be off then."

Count Gloucester nodded as he reached the entrance of the hospital, turning away from his country to face the rushing Airmid River and the warm summer night.

* * *

"Seteth?" Byleth called as he stepped through the main hall. "Are the kitchens still cooking?"

"I do not believe so," Seteth replied. "Though there may be some leftovers."

Byleth nodded, "Shall we go into dinner?"

Edelgard pursed her lips before she nodded, "It would be rude to ask the cooks to make extra, particularly when we failed to give them advance notice."

"Seteth, may I- oh, sorry Professor, I didn't see you there."

"Linhardt," Byleth said with a nod. "I trust you are well?"

Linhardt nodded in reply, "Though there are some issues that need to be addressed in the coming days."

"Like the rioters outside," Hubert guessed. "And this… Beast."

"Hubert," Linhardt observed. "I didn't- oh, Edelgard."

"We apologize if we've arrived earlier than what we promised," Edelgard said. "There were certain matters we believed we could not solve in Enbarr."

Linhardt nodded, "Have Professor Manuela and Professor Hanneman returned?"

"They have," Hubert said. "Still, I have not seen them since we left the carriages."

"Ah, Seteth, I've been meaning to- Hubert? Edelgard? Professor?"

"I believe we should sit down while we conduct this conversation," Edelgard suggested. "There are obviously many orders of business to discuss tonight."

* * *

"Are you sure that'll be all you will need?" the guard asked as Mortis climbed on top of her horse. "If you can wait for the morning, we could have some of the village guards escort us along the way."

Mortis shook her head as she tied her hair back into a ponytail, her face grim as she watched the dark road ahead, "I'll be fine, but I wish to thank the tavern owner for the change in clothes. They are certainly more comfortable than what I had been wearing before."

"You are aware of the road then?" the guard asked.

"Just follow the river," Mortis replied. "Yes, I'm aware."

The guard nodded, pausing as he turned about, "I must warn you though, there is a great beast that hides within the forests south of Garreg Mach."

Mortis blinked.

"There are rumours that it is becoming particularly active in recent weeks."

"Maurice," Mortis muttered. "Annoying bastard."

"Pardon?" the guard asked. "Maurice?"

Mortis shook her head, "A former colleague of mine, he was devoured by the beast some time ago, I apologize if that confused you."

"Ah," the guard said, his face concerned. "I'm sorry for your loss, but please, be careful."

"Same with you," Mortis replied as she urged the horse forward. "But pardon me, I must leave now."

* * *

"We are here," Spite said as he glanced around the room he had entered, taking a series of steps into the gloom as he pulled a severed heart from the folds of his cloak. "Talos, report on your squad."

Talos glanced behind him, his face grim, "My men are tired, I'm unsure if they are going to be able to cross over to the other side tonight."

Spite nodded as he turned to the rest of the squad leaders present, "Vito, Percival, Umbral, report."

"My men are tired as well," Vito said. "If possible, we should rest here for the night before we head in tomorrow."

"I second that," Umbral said. "Even if we were to cross over, Olympia's squadron is effectively useless."

"Percival, go help Olympia squad along," Spite barked. "They had the most difficulty traversing the terrain."

"What do we do then?" Talos asked. "Rest up for the night? Cook some dinner?"

"Correct," Spite replied. "But I've been meaning to go over some maps while we still can, prepare your teams for what we might find on the other side."

Vito glanced at his fellow squad leaders before he spoke, "What are we looking at? Defensive strongpoints, potential infiltration areas?"

Spite nodded in response, "That is correct. I will also need your teams to take inventory before we move in."

"What do you mean by useful inventory?" Talos asked. "Weapons? Armour?"

"And other things," Spite replied. "In particular, I'm interested in if anyone brought along a false Athame."

The other squad leaders flinched at the request.

"Pardon?" Talos asked. "I'm not sure I heard you correctly."

"As distasteful as I find the practice, I know that the false Athames have become a particularly popular form of weapon ever since the death of Jeralt Eisner," Spite explained with a scoff. "Still, from what I can gather, the quality of the knives is generally passable."

"Why do you want them?" Vito asked.

"Corpse eating," Spite replied. "I trust none of you have ever heard of the practice?"

Vito and Talos exchanged a glance as Umbral spoke up, "Is that a fancy term for cannibalism?"

"In a sense," Spite replied. "Entrance to and from Zaharas is very difficult, it requires a certain artifact."

"What is this artifact exactly?" Vito asked. "I've never actually travelled through Zaharas before today."

"An Agathan heart," Spite replied, his eyes meeting Vito's eyes. "Do you remember my execution of the traitor?"

"You sent him to Zaharas," Vito said. "You- you used his own heart to complete the ritual?"

"That is correct," Spite replied. "There are other, more… esoteric uses for a heart, but entrance to and from Zaharas is the main use for them."

"So what do we need the daggers for?" Talos asked.

"In the event that we find that Bias' expedition has met an untimely end, we must collect the hearts from the corpses," Spite explained. "To do this, a long dagger, generally around the size of my Athame, is going to be required."

"Ah, I see." Vito said. "Would a sword work?"

Spite shook his head, "Too long and awkward for cutting, we need daggers or knives."

"We'll ask around then," Vito said. "Where will you be?"

Spite frowned as he glanced around the cavern, his finger pointed at a shattered column, "The pillar over there will be a good meeting spot once we have eaten."

* * *

Aranea wiped a sheen of sweat from her head as the machine whirred and opened, a stream of mist filling Vault November as Nemesis rose from his grave, the hulking bandit taking a moment to look around his surroundings.

"Nemesis," Thales barked. "Agartha has found a need for your services."

"Is that so?" Nemesis asked as he climbed from the frigid prison, his muscular arms covered in scars. "And why is it that you need me?"

"Our forces wish to invite you into the final battle against the Nabateans," Thales said, his tone even. "We offer you the chance to slaughter the last of the Nabateans."

"You offer me much," Nemesis said. "Why?"

Aranea glanced at Thales, her hands clasped firmly behind her back.

"Because we are here to make amends for the mistakes of our ancestors," Thales replied. "They robbed you of the chance to destroy the Nabateans, and failed to stand by your side when you went to war, and for that we apologize."

Nemesis sneered, "Spare me your lies. I desire only two things."

"And what may they be?" Thales asked.

"First, the head of Seiros. Grant me that, and my blade is yours."

Aranea blinked at the request, her hands clasped behind her.

"Is there a problem with this request?" Nemesis asked, his eyes finding Aranea's eyes. "You seem hesitant."

"And what is your second request?" Thales asked.

"Why is your woman so fearful?" Nemesis asked. "Have I found a nerve?"

Aranea wished that she had joined her brother on his expedition, though she kept still, her eyes staring straight forward.

"I asked you one question," Nemesis said, his hand finding Aranea's cheek, his frigid yet forceful grip forcing her to look into his eyes. "Is there a problem with this request?"

"The Nabatean known as Seiros is dead," Thales said, his eyes empty as Nemesis dropped his hand away from Aranea, turning his gaze to Thales. "She was slain in battle."

"Then why do you need me at all?" Nemesis asked.

* * *

"What issues at hand do we have?" Edelgard asked as the table around her exchanged glances as the dinner plates were cleared away.

"There are three issues," Seteth said as he exchanged glances with Yuri, Linhardt, and Ferdinand. "One is rather immediate, and the other two more distant."

"You speak of the beast in the Southern Forest," Edelgard said, her hands clasped together as she listened to Seteth. "And what are the other issues?"

Seteth swallowed as he exchanged a glance with Linhardt, "The other two, well, all three are linked to the Agarthan civilization."

"Those who slither in the dark," Hubert growled. "The scions of Shambhala."

"You have dealt with them then," Seteth said, his gaze on Hubert.

"Naturally," Hubert said. "We've some dealings with them in the past."

"May I assume that you are no longer allies?" Seteth asked, his posture tense.

"You may," Edelgard said, glancing at Byleth. "It is regretful that we had ever affiliated ourselves with them."

Linhardt coughed, "They- they know."

Edelgard closed her eyes and clenched her fists, "I- I see."

"They are responsible for all three of these issues," Seteth said. "Either directly or indirectly."

"Explain," Hubert replied. "What do you mean by that?"

Seteth exchanged a glance with Indech before he turned to Edelgard, "The beast's name is Maurice."

Edelgard narrowed her eyes, "Is he another victim of the Hero's Relics?"

Seteth paused, "Maurice is both a victim and a perpetrator. He was originally a thief alongside Nemesis, but was turned into his present form by the power of his Relic weapon."

"His own Relic turned against him?" Edelgard asked, her voice hard. "How?"

Seteth shook his head, "We cannot be sure. Perhaps the blade found him unworthy, or he was betrayed by his fellows."

"The Elites turned on each other?" Ferdinand asked, his face shocked. "How? Why?"

"The Elites lost cohesion after Nemesis fell," Seteth said. "We believe the scions of Agartha had also begun to hunt them down."

"Why?" Edelgard asked, her eyes focused on Seteth. "What reason could they have for turning on their own allies?"

"Why did you turn on Cornelia Armin then?" Seteth asked. "Was she not an Agarthan agent?"

"How did you know that?" Hubert asked. "Unless someone told you?"

"We are not so foolish to discount evidence," Seteth replied. "During the war, Baron Dominic attended the Council of Fhirdiad alongside a certain representative of Cornelia's."

"Who was this representative?" Edelgard asked as she exchanged a glance with Hubert.

"A dark knight by the name of Mortis," Seteth said, taking a moment to watch Edelgard and Hubert freeze in their seats. "Judging from your reactions, you know very well who she was."

Hubert swallowed before he began, his voice hard, "We can confirm that she was an agent of Shambhala, or as you call it, Agartha."

Seteth grimaced, "The fell city of Shambhala, still hidden after all these years."

"How did you know this Mortis?" Hapi asked, her attention rapt.

"You know of her as well?" Seteth asked, his face concerned.

"Cornelia mentioned her name once," Hapi said. "She- she said that Mortis was late with supplies, never saw her though."

"And why was it that you found that name so interesting?" Hubert asked.

"Anselma mentioned her," Hapi said. "Said she was a spiteful murderess."

Edelgard flinched at the mention of her mother, her hands clenched into fists.

"I- I think we should call for a break," Byleth said as he stood up, his steps fast as he neared Edelgard, half carrying her out of the room.

"Did I say something wrong to Chatterbox?" Hapi asked. "And why did he take Eddy with him?"

Hubert grimaced as he stood up from his side of the table, whispering into Hapi's ear.

"Oh-," Hapi said. "I shouldn't have said that."

* * *

Spite watched the sleeping form of Percival sprawled on the ground next to his kit, the young commander snoring loudly as Spite nudged him with his toe.

"He's asleep?" Vito asked, his eyes heavy.

Spite glanced around, finding Olympia and Umbral similarly asleep elsewhere in the large square.

"Vito, Talos, it appears that we will not be able to get to that meeting tonight," Spite said. "No matter, ensure that you wake early tomorrow."

"We've done a search of our squads," Talos offered. "Two of my men own Athame replicas, although they are of rather poor quality."

"So long as the blades will not break, then I do not believe we will have an issue," Spite replied. "And other knives?"

"All my men brought along some form of knife, either for close quarters combat or for eating," Talos reported. "All of them appear to be in acceptable shape."

Vito nodded, "I concur, though none of my men had any Athames, two of them confessed to having hid theirs to avoid your wrath."

"And how many other knives did they bring?" Spite asked.

"Eight knives," Vito replied. "One of my soldiers likes to collect the things, and she brought alongside six."

"Very well," Spite said. "Get some rest while you can, I will go over the ground plans over breakfast then."

"Same to you sir," Talos said as he turned back to his squad. "Same to you."

* * *

"I can walk now," Edelgard complained as Byleth rushed her through the halls of Garreg Mach.

Byleth turned around behind him before he slowed his pace, his arms still draped over Edelgard's shoulders.

"I- I didn't see that coming," Edelgard whispered as the two of them stepped into an open courtyard. "To- to think that I've fought alongside her for years, and yet, I didn't know that."

Byleth nodded as he let go of Edelgard, the two of them spending a long moment staring at the moon above.

"I was told by Caspar there's a spot near the Officer's Academy for moments like these," Byleth whispered into Edelgard's ear. "Should we go there?"

Edelgard murmured a quiet word of confirmation as she let Byleth lead her away from the school.

* * *

"So-" Edelgard said as she sunk to her knees, her legs folding under her. "This is what you wanted to show me?"

"Do you like it?" Byleth asked as he sat down next to her. "I wasn't sure if this was somewhere you knew about."

"I- I feel foolish now," Edelgard admitted. "Even this beautiful scene was something Caspar was hiding from me all this time."

"I don't think he was hiding it," Byleth replied, his voice soft. "I found out about it when I watched him carry Bernadetta here."

Edelgard raised an eyebrow and hid a laugh, "Really? That's not something I could picture happening."

"I agree," Byleth replied. "She spent the trip screaming for him to be let down."

Edelgard cracked a smile at the comment, her eyes finding the distant moon, "If I were to- change."

"El." Byleth said, his voice firm.

Edelgard blinked as she glanced at Byleth, surprised by the tone of Byleth's voice.

"That won't happen," Byleth said. "I won't let it, not now, not never."

Edelgard nodded as she laid her head against Byleth's shoulder, her eyes gazing into his face.

"When this war is over," Byleth said after a moment of silence. "I want to destroy the Hero's Relics. They've claimed too many victims over the generations."

"When all of this is over," Edelgard replied. "A bonfire for tomorrow."

"A bonfire for tomorrow," Byleth said. "A tribute for yesterday."

Edelgard nodded as she tore herself away from Byleth, her hands tossing away her boots as he watched from the side.

"We never did find a pair that was comfortable to walk in," Byleth observed. "Perhaps we could fix that here?"

Edelgard sighed, "Yes, that was a mistake, not finding something comfortable to travel in. Why did I let Hubert talk me into wearing these things?"

Byleth replied with a slight chuckle, "I'm not sure about that, he never anticipated having to fight in mud."

"Remind me to have these murder weapons removed from my armour," Edelgard said. "I'm never going into battle again wearing these things."

"Wasn't that set of armour a legacy set from an earlier emperor?" Byleth asked.

"It was, and I'm sure she wanted to destroy those things even more than I did," Edelgard grumbled. "Perhaps I will honour her memory as such."

"Looks like we have a lot to bring down," Byleth said with a smile. "Together."

Edelgard nodded as she inched closer to Byleth.

"I have a request for tonight though," Byleth said. "Just for the two of us."

"And what is that?" Edelgard asked.

"Let's be alone, just for a little while longer," Byleth replied. "Watching this beautiful world."

"I can permit that," Edelgard replied as she yawned, their fingers entwined.

"El?" Byleth asked.

"Yes?" Edelgard answered in turn. "What is it?"

"Am I still your favourite pillow?"

Edelgard blushed at the question, "Of course, for now and always."

"Then I ask you to prove it," Byleth said, a gleam in his eye. "Rest-"

Edelgard grinned as she pushed him onto his back, landing on his chest as she followed through, a gleam on her eyes.

Byleth watched Edelgard as she sunk her face against his.

"Now, pillow, take me to sleep," Edelgard ordered, her tone teasing.

"Glad-"

"No pillow," Edelgard chided her consort, their eyes meeting. "Prove it."

Byleth grinned as his arms moved to trap Edelgard in his embrace, his arms nudging her face closer to his, "As you say then, my emperor, I'll take you to sleep."

Then he kissed her, their lips brushing for a long moment before Byleth moved forward, his tongue slipping past her defenses.

Edelgard made a sound of joy as she counterattacked, her own tongue refusing to budge, biding her time for the perfect blow.

When Byleth danced his tongue to explore her, Edelgard struck, striking a critical blow to pin her professor in place, his eyes widening in surprise as she savoured the sweet victory.

"Is-" Byleth started, conceding defeat as Edelgard smirked.

"Shush pillow," Edelgard chided Byleth as her eyes fluttered shut. "Your emperor demands sleep."

* * *

**AN:** Another chapter complete. As always, please review, though something tells me that I'm going to get 0 again (_Sigh_).

**Next Chapter:**

Beauty and the Beast

Proud Defiance

Deal with the Devil

Necropolis

A war on


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26: Para Bellum Part 4.

**AN: **Italic text is either inner thoughts (for Maurice) or words spoken in the Agarthan tongue (Everybody else).

* * *

"Gentlemen?" Spite asked as he stood over the map, his arms crossed against his chest as he nodded to each of the lesser commanders standing before him. "Are we ready to begin the briefing?"

The five men before him exchanged glances before Vito spoke for the group, "As ready as we'll ever be."

"So be it," Spite replied. "The portal opens to the central courtyard of the fortress, and it is likely that we will be exposed for some time until our forces can make a break for cover."

"What are the possibilities that we are under attack?" Talos asked.

"Four distinct scenarios may pan out," Spite replied. "The three least likely scenarios see us come under attack."

"Let's hear it then," Olympia said, his eyes watching the map. "What are they?"

"First scenario, we are attacked by Macuil's minions," Spite said. "In this case, I will lead the battle against his revenants."

"And if we fail?" Talos asked.

"Then we join the damned of Zaharas," Spite replied. "Fortunately, the other members of the Septet believe that Macuil's presence is extremely unlikely."

"And why is that?" Umbral asked.

"Macuil has, for as long as we have known him, been an isolationist loner," Spite replied. "Whereas his three surviving kin have all either slipped into the ranks of pure humanity or hidden within close proximity of human settlements, Macuil has isolated himself deep in the deserts of Sreng."

"So this land is not isolated enough for him?" Umbral asked.

"Correct," Spite replied. "The second scenario will be that an Imperial Army task force or a leftover warband of Holy Kingdom forces will be occupying the tower. The same playbook remains for them. Go in, kill every last one of them."

"How would they have defeated Bias?" Talos asked.

"Had Bias left only a token force behind to guard herself, it is possible the enemy simply overwhelmed their lines with no regards to their own losses," Spite replied. "A crude tactic, but a necessary one if going up against superior foes."

"Why was Bias not with her main attack force?" Vito asked. "I don't understand why she would avoid joining battle herself."

"Bias lacked the authority to command the respect of her forces," Spite said. "Her ascension to a member of the Septet was purely out of necessity, and secondly, due to our openings, I suspect that she was ordered to look for the most cunning and powerful survivors amongst the task force sent to kill Macuil."

"Why weren't more of us sent?" Vito asked. "Why were so many of our forces confined to Shambhala?"

"Politics," Spite replied. "You didn't need me to tell you that answer."

"Politics by whom?" Vito asked, his hands on the map. "Answer me!"

"Vito, that's enough," Spite said. "We are here to go over the plan, not argue over spilled milk."

Vito swallowed before he stepped back from the map, "I apologize for that. I shouldn't have stepped out of line."

"All is forgiven," Spite replied. "The third option is the most likely option."

"Bias and her task force dead and left to rot," Talos guessed. "Is this why you had us bring-"

"Yes, that's correct," Spite replied. "Excellent observation skills. In this case, we will still require battlements to be occupied, but the vast majority of our efforts must be the collection of evidence and salvage."

"Weapons?" Vito asked.

"No," Spite replied. "To carry basic weapons and armour back to Shambhala would be a waste of resources. Our main aim is to retrieve the hearts of the fallen."

"What about the fourth option?" Olympia asked. "You said it split into two further scenarios."

"I did," Spite replied. "The last option is that Bias is still alive, and has either failed to contact Shambhala or turned traitor."

"Traitor?" Vito asked. "A member of the Septet, turned traitor?"

"It has happened before," Spite replied. "In the earliest years of Shambhala's history, but this scenario is by far the least likely."

"Why is that?" Talos asked. "What makes it unlikely?"

"Because Bias not only knows how to open a portal into Zaharas, but also knows how to navigate its tunnels. If her expedition was in good health, then by all means, we should have been informed by now."

Talos nodded, his arms crossed as he stepped away from the table.

"If there are no further questions, ensure your squads are ready to move out," Spite said, revealing a crystal heart from the depths of his robes. "Be on your guard for the hour of reckoning."

* * *

Edelgard yawned as she pressed into Byleth, her eyes shifting to find his eyes looking back at her.

"Good morning," Byleth said, a smile lighting up his features. "I trust you slept well?"

Edelgard inched forward, landing a small peck on his cheek before she rolled off, taking a moment to push back her loose hair.

"Should we get going?" Byleth asked. "It's still early."

Edelgard nodded, her face serious as she collected her boots, "The Beast, or Maurice, as Seteth called him, is a problem we need to deal with."

"I agree with that," Byleth replied. "The supply lines need to be dealt with before we can turn to the mystery that is this… Mortis."

"I suspect Hubert kept Seteth up until the early hours of the morning," Edelgard replied. "As I understand it, he respected her, to an extent."

"That's not a word I associate with Hubert," Byleth replied. "Especially given who we are dealing with."

"She taught him his first dark magic spell," Edelgard said. "Do you remember how he had known Miasma far before anyone else?"

"This Mortis taught him Miasma?" Byleth asked. "Most curious."

"He owes her a certain amount," Edelgard said as she walked through the outskirts of Garreg Mach. "He confessed at one point that he had difficulty with some spells he had salvaged."

"And she helped him?" Byleth asked.

"Correct," Hubert said as he approached the couple, his lips tight. "Mortis would correct several mistakes of mine in regards to the spell."

"Why did she do that?" Byleth asked. "Did you ask for her help?"

"No, she knew from the beginning," Hubert replied as he shook his head. " I believe Adrasteia had warned her that I had stolen notes on spells, and she had come with the intention of teaching me how to use them."

"Why?" Byleth asked. "Adrasteia must have known your intentions and how much you hated him."

"She said that I was likely to kill myself if I had proceeded with some of the more dangerous magic," Hubert said. "And losing me over a few spells wasn't in the interest of Shambhala."

"Was she right?" Byleth asked.

"She was," Hubert confirmed after a long moment of silence. "I would further my studies of the advanced spells while I attended Garreg Mach, but I know if I had attempted to use the magic too early, it would have led to a premature death."

"Have you spoken to Seteth about her activities?" Byleth asked.

"At length," Hubert replied. "He had little to say, as did Baron Dominic, apart from her seeming lack of origin and unexplained competence."

"Do you believe we killed her in Arianrhod?" Byleth asked.

"No, I don't believe she's dead," Hubert replied. "Had we engaged her in combat, I would have been able to distinguish her corpse from amongst the dead."

"So she's still out there," Byleth deduced. "Do you have a plan to deal with her when the time comes?"

Hubert nodded as they entered the main hall of Garreg Mach, "I intend to extract her secrets through whatever means possible, in the event we take her alive."

"You sound hesitant about that," Byleth observed. "Why?"

"Even when I was learning magic at Garreg Mach, Mortis was already a fully fledged sorceress," Hubert said. "Unless we catch her off guard, I'm sure she would fight to the death rather than surrender to us."

"Be ready for that day," Edelgard said as she nodded to Seteth. "Until then, we will put down this Maurice."

* * *

_I smell the betrayer in the air. _

_How long has it been? A year? Ten? A century? _

_I force myself to move, to seek out the source of the smell. _

_Perhaps- rest? _

_Or… feed? _

_Feed? _

_Feed!_

_FEED!_

_FEED!_

* * *

"So," Aranea said as she sat down at the table, taking a small sip of the tea she had brewed. "What do we do from here?"

"The other Elites have their will shackled to Nemesis," Solon reported. "And Nemesis has made it clear that he doesn't have any interest in continuing the war."

"Could we take on the Imperial Army as we are?" Myson asked. "Or, if we find the location of our enemies, could we reduce them to ash?"

"A potential option," Thales replied as he turned his gaze around the table. "But there is another option on the table."

"What are you thinking?" Solon asked.

"An early experiment of the previous Periander reduced the revenant he had summoned shackled to the will of it's summoner," Thales said. "Still, as it was not a free willed soldier he had summoned, but an enslaved… thing, in short, the experiment was deemed a failure."

"Are you suggesting we enslave Nemesis?" Aranea asked, her hands pressed together as she mulled over the decision. "No, that wouldn't work. The rest of the Elites would turn to dust upon his death, and there's no guarantee his soul would remain long enough for us to bind it to a host."

"You misunderstand," Thales replied. "What would happen if we return Seiros back to life?"

"After our puppets spent so long killing her?" Myson asked. "It would- oh I see now."

"To summon her as a mindless revenant," Aranea said. "As appeasement to Nemesis?"

"Pittacus, ask your brother if there's any information he possesses on the earliest experiments the previous Periander performed," Thales said. "Myson, take a task force to Shangri-la to see if he left any notes there."

"Should I attempt to contact my brother via radio?" Aranea asked. "The previous Bias' radio may still be functional."

"No," Thales replied. "It would be faster for you to join with Myson. Zaharas is merely a few hours walk."

Aranea nodded, "I'll prepare myself then, if there's no other orders of business."

"There are none," Thales replied. "_Glory to Agartha_."

"_Glory to Agartha_," Aranea replied as she left the room.

* * *

"Conand Tower," Ashe said as he led his horse to a small stream, his eyes closed as the animal drank.

"You are aware of the story behind it, right?" Ingrid asked as she stopped next to her partner. "Why Conand Tower was built?"

"Of course!" Ashe exclaimed as he turned to Ingrid. "Wasn't it to protect the northern border at the time and to provide Lady Conand a place of rest after her campaigns?"

"Did you read the story of the rogue wyvern?" Ingrid asked, her eyes excited. "The one set at the tower?"

"The one where she leapt off a tower to force it to the ground?" Ashe asked, his grin wide. "It kept me up at night imagining how it must have felt making such a leap."

"It's a tragedy how the fortress has been left as it is," Ingrid said, her lips tight. "Still, maybe in the future, we can restore it for a new purpose."

"After we clear it of the enemy," Ashe promised. "What are you thinking for the future?"

"A travel post or a training ground," Ingrid replied. "The forests around the fortress have a lot of wild game to hunt."

Ashe laughed at that, "And I'm sure you're going to enjoy that."

"Well, erm, I uhh," Ingrid spluttered. "Did you… see me?"

Ashe blinked, "I'm sorry, what do you mean by that?"

"Have you ever seen me eating?" Ingrid asked, her face flushing as she tightened her grip on her horses' reins.

"We eat in the dining hall all the time," Ashe said. "I'm sure we've shared meals before, although I'm not sure why you would eat snacks off in the sides of the monastery."

Ingrid froze in her seat, her face flushing, "You- you saw that?"

"Ingrid?" Ashe asked. "You're flushed, do you need a drink of water?"

"Me? Me?" Ingrid laughed. "I'm perfectly fine. There's nothing wrong, nothing at all!"

"Ingrid?" Ashe asked. "Are you alright? Do you need some water?"

Ingrid swallowed, "You- you saw me eating?"

Ashe shook his head, "No, I was told by Yuri once that you enjoyed eating smoked meat, though I confess I've never actually seen you enjoy it when dining with us."

Ingrid laughed at the comment as she placed a hand against her breastplate, "Ah, right. Perhaps some water wouldn't hurt."

Ashe watched Ingrid for a moment before he shook his head, a small smile lighting up his face, "Let's take a break while the sun is high to avoid the heat."

* * *

The portal creaked open, the air shimmering with magic as Spite stepped from the depths of Zaharas, his eyes taking a moment to take in the scene of horror as carrion birds and insects scattered.

"_Glory to Agartha_," Spite hissed, a spare hand covering his face as he scanned the scene of carnage.

"Spite?" Talos asked as he hurried from the portal, the man turning pale as he looked around.

"No survivors," Spite said as he waved a spare hand to swat away insects. "Talos, order the rest of the task force forward. The sooner we leave this place, the better."

Talos retched before he threw himself away from his superior officer, his breathing reduced to hacking coughs as more unwary soldiers marched through the portal, each successive member grabbing at their faces as the foul stench of death overcame them.

Spite grimaced as he glanced around the empty courtyard, though only a crow, flying from the central tower, caught his attention.

"Soldiers, we make camp away from the bloodbath," Spite barked as he waved his men away from the tower, the crowd leaving the portal making haste to cover their faces as they hurried to the tree line. "Once there, we establish a perimeter."

* * *

"I want to go with you," Flayn said as she stepped before her father, her arms outstretched as she tried to stop the hunting party.

"Flayn, please," Seteth pleaded. "That's enough. I'm not going to let you get hurt."

"Father, please, I want to be with you and the Professor," Flayn argued. "What if this Mortis comes after me while you're away?"

Seteth swallowed as he turned to Byleth, "Professor, may I bring along Flayn for this expedition?"

Byleth nodded, "I don't see anything wrong with it, but Flayn, why is it that you really want to be out in the field?"

Seteth pressed his lips together as Flayn turned to her father, their eyes meeting for a moment before Flayn turned back to Byleth.

"I feel safe near you, Professor," Flayn confessed. "You showed us kindness even when we were attacking you."

Byleth shook his head, his lips tight, "From what I can gather, only a handful of people at Garreg Mach can recognize this Mortis. You would still be in danger if we returned to an ambush."

"I agree with the professor's sentiment," Hubert said as he approached the group. "As it stands, there are only six people at Garreg Mach monastery who know what this Mortis looks like."

"And who are these people?" Ferdinand asked as he arrived with the party. "Please do not include myself, as I have not ever seen this mysterious Mortis, only heard of her from Sylvain."

"You are not on the list," Hubert promised. "Seteth and Baron Dominic recognize her from the Council of Fhirdad, while Monica, Jeritza, myself, and Edelgard know her from the campaign to have Kronya infiltrate Garreg Mach."

"She was part of that?" Seteth asked. "What was her role?"

"A certain… noble sought Monica von Ochs' hand in marriage," Hubert explained, exchanging a glance with Dorothea. "When she refused him, he resorted to kidnapping."

Seteth narrowed his eyes, "Monica von Ochs is still alive?"

Monica coughed from the back of the convoy as Seteth turned to the woman, his eyes narrowing at the woman before him.

"How did this happen?" Seteth asked. "I had believed her murdered by the Thales."

"I- I fell in love with a Shambhalan," Monica explained, her voice sheepish as she took a step away from the group. "He refused to kill me, and one of his superiors was willing to look the other way so long as they had a connection to my benefactor."

"Who was that?" Seteth asked. "And why was he so important?"

"His name was erm, Paul- Paul Hawthorne."

Yuri doubled over at the mention of the name, his eyes hardening, "The ruler of Enbarr's criminal underworld?"

"Correct," Hubert said. "And a secret member of the Insurrection of the Seven."

Seteth's eyes narrowed as he looked at Hubert, "How does this Mortis fit into this picture?"

"Mortis was the senior agent in the project, sent to ensure Kronya reached Garreg Mach safely," Hubert said. "When Shambhala learned of the presence of the kidnapping team sent by a certain Roderigo Midas, Mortis was tasked with hunting and killing the team behind the kidnapping."

"And when every member of the kidnapping team had been slaughtered, she allowed Kronya to enter Garreg Mach," Seteth summarized. "Is this correct so far?"

Hubert nodded, "The last of the kidnappers were killed as we raided Conand Tower."

"When Roderigo Midas sent most of his guards to try to kidnap Ingrid, Mortis was able to slip past his remaining guards and take his head," Dorothea said. "And thus any evidence Monica had ever been kidnapped twice would be destroyed."

"Correct," Hubert said. "Though the guards he sent out would never learn that their paymaster had been dispatched while they occupied the trip back to Garreg Mach. Had they returned to their master, they would have discovered a charred corpse."

"Disturbing," Seteth said. "And why was Monica not killed? It would appear that Mortis would not leave behind loose ends."

Hubert grimaced at the comment, his eyes turned away, "I had the same idea at the time."

"Hawthorne intervened on my behalf," Monica said. "He had been friends with my father."

"And, yet, I understand that you played a role in the death of Baron Ochs," Seteth said, casting his gaze against Hubert.

"Correct," Hubert said, meeting Seteth's gaze. "Our agreement with the overseer was that Monica von Ochs was to remain dead to all but Hawthorne. Had we broken that agreement, the consequences would have been most dire."

Seteth nodded, "I see, a tragic loss of life regardless."

"And now you understand why the four of us can recognize Mortis," Edelgard said, cutting into the conversation. "Though I confess that my memory is rather foggy, for I only met her twice, and even then, only for a few minutes."

Seteth nodded as he looked upon Flayn, "Very well, Professor, for her safety, I ask that you allow both of us to join you on this hunt."

"Granted," Byleth said. "Let's move out."

* * *

Mortis took a small sip from a river as she kept an eye on her horse, tied to a nearby tree.

"It's too hot," Mortis growled, taking a moment to take a bite out of a chunk of bread, finishing the small meal with two more bites. "Perhaps I should have stopped riding while the sun was overhead."

As Mortis finished the piece of bread, the face of Yurius appeared in her mind, causing her to grit her teeth and reach for Athame.

When the feeling in her chest passed, Mortis grimaced as she rose to her feet, taking a moment to stretch her limbs before she climbed aboard her mount and continued her ride.

* * *

"I want to offer you a deal," Count Gloucester said as he stepped through the bars of the jail cell, his eyes on the prisoner slumped over in a corner. "It is a good deal, or I like to believe."

The young man said nothing, his posture remaining the same as he raised his eyes to meet Count Gloucester.

"Would you like to hear me out?" Count Gloucester asked. "It can't hurt now, can't it?"

"I don't care," Yurius replied. "I will not betray my people, not for what you can offer."

"But you haven't even heard my offer yet," Count Gloucester stated. "Are you so close minded?"

Yurius looked at Count Gloucester for a minute before spitting at his boots.

"I like you," Count Gloucester said. "Loyal to your cause until death. Tell me, why is it that you fight under the imperial banner?"

"I don't," Yurius shot back. "I'm not an imperial. I'm a mercenary."

"A mercenary is loyal to gold and gold alone," Count Gloucester snarled. "Why are you so loyal in the face of death where other men would turn and flee?"

Yurius looked at the man for a long second, "I don't fear you. You are a disgusting animal masquerading as a noble."

"And why is that?" Count Gloucester asked, a flash of anger in his eyes. "What is it that I have done that disgusts you so?"

Yurius remained silent as Count Gloucester paced around the room.

"I thought you might see honour," Count Gloucester snarled. "Reason."

Yurius turned to look at the man, a look of contempt on his face.

"I was mistaken," Count Gloucester said. "Very well then, you will see fear."

Yurius snorted, the face of Spite flashing through his mind, "Doubt it."

"Listen close," Count Gloucester snarled, his face inches away from the other man. "You will tell me where you found all of this gold stolen from House Ordelia, and in turn, I will let you live."

"No," Yurius replied. "I will not betray that information."

"We will see about that," Count Gloucester snarled as he waved his hand, the door to the prison swinging open. "We will see about that."

* * *

Spite stood over the dead body of the previous Bias, his eyes watching the woman's many festering wounds as he whispered a short prayer.

"Can you give us a cause of death?" Talos asked as he approached his superior.

"No," Spite replied as he gestured to the corpse. "There's been too much decomposition, and too many potentially fatal wounds to allow me to conclusively declare what killed her. Still, show me where we found the body."

"Right, of course," Talos said as he turned away from Bias. "It's over by Vito."

Spite nodded as he moved to the other man, his arms crossed against his chest.

"My lord," Vito said in greeting. "Come to see the scene?"

"I have," Spite replied, nodding to the squatting form of Percival. "Are there any tracks? Any sign that her body was moved here after her death?"

Vito and Percival shook their heads.

"I'm afraid not. We found Lady Bias where she fell," Percival said. "We were probably the first to touch her body after her death."

"And what of her other losses?" Spite asked, nodding at a nearby pile of corpses, "How do you see them fitting into the picture?"

"Looks to me like they were warped here as a surprise attack," Percival observed. "There are no footsteps that lead from the main fortress, and with their heavy armour, it's very likely they teleported."

"And what makes you say that?" Olympia asked as he stepped into the conversation. "Why couldn't they have marched out of the fortress?"

"Surprise and setup," Spite replied, turning to the oldest of his lieutenants. "The heavy armour units would have been easy pickings for enemy magisters as they made their way to the front lines. Much more sense for them to be warped in for a surprise attack at the heart of the enemy lines."

"Why were they sent to the front?" Umbral asked as he joined the rest of the command squad. "And why were they cut down as they were?"

"We must ask ourselves who was behind the attack," Spite said. "Though I am close to certain that it was Macuil who was behind the slaughter."

"Why is that?" Percival asked as he stood up.

"Either our heavy infantry had lost their minds by teleporting directly into an enemy strongpoint, or they had walked into a sudden ambush by previously unengaged reserve forces," Spite explained. "Only the four saints, with their undead legions, can summon such forces without concealing them first."

"Why not the imperial army?" Umbral asked. "They could have fielded reinforcements in the bushes and trees."

"That is true," Spite replied. "But there are no losses of any kind that we can see that the enemy left, and it is rather obvious that, at least for the first phase of the battle, Bias and her forces threw everything they had against the enemy."

"First phase?" Percival asked. "What makes you so sure there were two phases?"

"Blood and corpses," Spite replied. "I trust you all saw the bodies we encountered amongst our evacuation of the teleport grounds?"

"We did," Umbral said, his eyes turning to survey the rotting pile in the distance. "You think they were fleeing?"

"The bodies were faced away from Bias" Spite said. "I suspect the legion lost their nerve when they saw her cut down."

"Then why was she here?" Talos asked. "Out in the front?"

"A duel between champions," Spite replied. "Bias, understanding that Macuil had unlimited legions of forces with him, may have thrown all of her forces at him in a last ditch attempt to kill him."

"And it failed," Umbral concluded. "And when she fell, the rest of them turned and fled to a defensive strongpoint."

"Do you think they tried to call for help?" Talos asked.

"We would have to see the inside of Conand tower first," Spite said. "Tonight, I will ensure that the hearts are removed from the dead on the outskirts of the fortress, and their bodies are added to a bonfire."

"I'm not sure my men know how to do that," Percival said. "Or even if they want to."

"Each of you, find one man from your squadrons to do the dirty work," Spite said. "If there are no volunteers, draw lots."

"What will the rest of our men do?" Olympia asked.

"Have those of your men who cannot stand the smell to patrol the roads into the area," Spite ordered. "Set up tripwires for horses. I don't want any surprises."

"What if Macuil comes back?" Talos asked. "What do we do then?"

"Good question," Spite replied, a hand on his chin as he paused. "Assign two members from your squads to harvest from the dead. We haven't the time to take into account that particular possibility, nor do we have the manpower to take on a murderous Nabatean. As for the men who aren't on patrol duty, ensure they bring the bodies of the dead into the open for faster disposal."

Talos nodded, "We should be able to get you a list of names for daybreak."

"So be it," Spite said as he turned to Conand Tower in the distance. "Dismissed."

* * *

_I can smell the blood of the Goddess. _

_Is my torment truly over? Can I finally be sated? _

_I feel my body move again, the blood of the deceiver forgotten. _

_The others who share my burden follow, they follow me, to freedom... oblivion?_

_But-they seek-feed?_

_They seek… feed! _

_No! They- feed!_

_FEED!_

* * *

"Professor," Hubert called from the front of the convoy, "There's mist ahead. How should we deploy?"

"Have we found any indication that the Beast is here?" Byleth asked as he glanced at Edelgard, taking a breath as she marched forward in her full set of armour.

"Not yet," Hubert replied. "Though with the fog, the tactical situation can change in a moment."

Byleth nodded as he stepped forward, cutting through the crowd, "El, I want you next to me. You've got the heaviest armour out of all of us."

"Right," Edelgard said as she moved forward, taking up position in front of the rest of the line. "Let us move forward."

"Seteth?" Byleth asked as he turned around.

"What is it?" Seteth asked as he turned to look down at Byleth from his wyvern.

"Do you believe you can fly over the fog?" Byleth asked. "We may be able to determine where and when the enemy is coming at us."

Seteth shook his head as he waved his spare hand before him, "The fog will be too thick. Even now, I can barely see all of the members of our party."

"Spread out and be aware of your surroundings," Byleth ordered. "Marianne, Seteth, can you fly forward and see if the area is clear?"

"On it, Professor!" Marianne promised as she pushed forward into the mist.

"Of course," Seteth said as he took a different direction, slipping into the depths of the forest. "It will be done."

* * *

Mortis grimaced as she clung to the horse's reins, a hiss escaping her lips as she stared into the eyes of the monster staring back at her.

"Maurice," Mortis growled as she forced her horse to obey, the animal trembling in the presence of the monster before it. "So you've come to die."

The beast roared in response and charged at her.

With a hiss of anger, Mortis tore herself from her mount, the horse sacrificed as the beast rammed into it, the monster's enormous jaws tearing into the flesh of her dying mount.

"You're paying for that," Mortis hissed as she unleashed Dark Spikes against her foe, the monster shuddering as the magical lances cut deep into its flesh.

Mortis took three steps back as her foe forced itself forward, foul, poisoned blood leaking from its many injuries.

"Just die already," Mortis growled as she unleashed another spell, the magic of Banshee tearing into her victim, the arcane burning away the burning flesh of the beast.

But still the monster was fighting, charging at her with speed she had thought was impossible, given its many injuries.

When the beast came close to her, Mortis threw herself to the side while the monster, claimed by its momentum, tore down the road before shambling to a stop a distance away.

Mortis glanced to her left, where a path of destroyed trees had detailed the beast's attempts to claw its way to her.

"Come, Maurice!" Mortis shouted as she moved to the destroyed tree line. "Let me grant you the death you so richly reserve."

The beast roared as it rushed forward, being deceptively quick despite its thundering size.

Then Mortis hopped over the first tree stump, easily evading the beast as it slammed into a tree, unable to stop its own inertia.

And then the tree collapsed, the ancient wood slamming into the beast that had rammed it, reducing the monster to a twitching mass as Mortis unleashed a medium level fire spell, the magic hungrily devouring both beast and tree as it spread.

Mortis sighed as she turned away from the burning, screeching abomination, wiping a sheen of sweat from her brow as the flames devoured Maurice.

A howl interrupted her as she was about to rest on a nearby stump, causing her to turn her gaze to where her horse had been butchered.

Three beasts, as ravenous and hungry as the one burning next to her, stood over the corpse of her horse, their massive claws tearing through the flesh of her mount as they fought each other over the scraps of the kill.

"No," Mortis whispered, a sinking feeling filling her heart as she made eye contact with one of the beasts. "There's more of these damn things?"

The beast she had made eye contact with roared as it lumbered around, its Crest deformed body turning to chase her as Mortis fled for the safety of the mists.

* * *

"We have contact!" Seteth shouted as his wyvern dodged back, the rider pulling close to Byleth as a looming beast rose out of the distance.

"Is that Maurice?" Byleth asked as he took centre point, Edelgard to his right, Seteth to his left.

"I would have to believe so," Seteth replied. "Be on your guard, Professor."

"Incoming!" Ferdinand shouted as Marianne fell back, a pack of lesser beasts on her heels as her pegasus strained to escape.

"Form up!" Byleth shouted. "Hubert! Fire away!"

"On it!" Hubert shouted as he launched a orb of darkness against the first of the lesser beasts, the blast knocking it back and stopping the rampaging charge in its tracks. "Ferdinand, Marianne, begin your attack!"

"For the Adrestian Empire!" Ferdinand shouted, his lance primed as he charged into the fray, Marianne swooping in from above.

"Professor!" Hubert shouted as the towering beast tore free a chunk of earth, the giant aiming the projectile at the professor. "Look out!"

Byleth growled as he raised his sword to protect himself, his stance ready to deflect the blow coming for him.

"Not today!" Edelgard shouted as she stood before the professor, her shield raised high. "We fight as one!"

The blow hit, and even Edelgard staggered back, a thin streak of blood leaking from her head as she fell to one knee, her breathing heavy as Byleth charged forward.

"Edelgard, are you alright?" Flayn asked as she brought forth an orb of green magic to the white haired woman.

"I'm fine, Flayn," Edelgard replied as she moved forward. "I can still fight."

Flayn shook her head as the green light enveloped Edelgard, "You're better now."

"Thank you Flayn," Edelgard said as the beast charged forward, roaring as Edelgard threw herself over Flayn, the claws of the beast shuddering against her shield as the monster was forced to withdraw.

"Edie!" Dorothea shouted as she unleashed a powerful blast of energy, throwing the beast into a nearby treeline, "Flayn!"

"Jeritza, we need to join the battle!" Yuri urged the knight as he moved forward.

"I agree," Jeritza said as he turned his mount to face something in the mist. "Our escape route has been cut off."

"What?" Yuri asked, turning to see two large wolves slobbering in the mist behind them. "Bastards, we're surrounded."

"I will hold them off," Jeritza said, his tone even. "Go, assist the professor."

"Fine," Yuri said as he pushed his way through the fog to join up with the main fighting force. "Stay safe Jeritza."

"Your life ends!" Jeritza shouted as he charged toward the two beasts.

* * *

Mortis winced as she tore through the forest, pausing as she reached a small clearing, her breathing laboured as she took a moment to survey her surroundings.

"_You- you are one of us_," a voice said as she looked up, Athame drawn.

"You're dead," Mortis observed, glancing at the grevious wounds the revenant wore. "And yet you wear Agarthan plates."

"_You share our blood!_" the dead Agarthan asked. "_But not... our tongue?_"

Mortis grimaced as she glanced behind her, "_Yes, I speak Agarthan. Why are you here?_"

The revenant stood for a moment before he slumped to his knees, hands clasped in prayer, "_After so long, a saviour has come to us!_"

"_Maurice_," Mortis said. "_His cursed beasts hunt me. I have slain one, but many more remain. Now answer my question._"

"_Our lives are tied to that monster, and for a thousand years we have watched him rot and devour._" the revenant moaned. "_I beg of you, end our suffering." _

Mortis grimaced at the request, "_Have you ever thought to fight him?_"

The revenant moaned, "_Many times we have tried, yet he commands us to rise whenever he strikes us down. We cannot escape_."

Mortis closed her eyes, "_Gather your forces and stay the beasts chasing me. I will hunt Maurice down and end your torment_."

"_I- I thank you,_" the revenant croaked as a sudden crackle of energy tore at his being, "_He- he calls me to feed!_"

"_What?_" Mortis asked as she took a step away from the convulsing form of the undead soldier, the dead man screaming as the energy consumed him.

"_Feed_," the revenant whispered as the energy faltered, his empty eyes looking at Mortis with malice. "_Feed_."

Mortis grimaced as she took another step back, watching the revenant raise an axe before dodging the blow.

The revenant tore the weapon from the tree that had been behind Mortis, the dead man's weapon covered in a foul sap as Mortis unleashed a powerful chain of fire, disintegrating the revenant even as it charged toward her.

"Bastard," Mortis hissed as she turned away from the obliterated phantom, frowning as she watched a distant arc of lightning illuminate the staggered form of Maurice.

"Someone is fighting Maurice?" Mortis asked herself as she hurried forward. "Here? Now?"

And then the earth began to shake.

* * *

"Are we ready to leave?" Aranea asked the soldier standing by the Machine Hall, the young man grimacing as he turned to an older soldier.

"Lady Pittacus," the older soldier said, bowing his head in respect. "We are pleased that you're coming with us."

"Only part way," Aranea replied. "My mission will see me diverge from yours about three quarters of the way there."

The older soldier nodded, "Our squadron is just waiting on Lord Myson."

Aranea nodded, "If memory serves, you'll be heading to Shangri-la?"

"That is correct," the soldier replied. "Will you be joining us after you retrieve Lord Periander?"

Aranea shook her head, "The regent of Shangri-la and my brother have a long and bitter hatred for each other. It will be best if they do not meet each other."

"Why is that?" the younger soldier asked.

"It is a long story," Aranea replied. "Perhaps when the war is over, I can tell you."

"I can tell you," Myson said as he entered the Hall, giving a nod to Aranea. "But only when the outsider is not in the same room as us."

"You know the story?" Aranea asked. "I believe even Mortis was only told pieces of the full story."

"I know Periander," Myson replied. "I know the outsider. I can guess what she did to invoke his wrath."

Aranea nodded as she pulled a small stone from a pack on her belt.

"A useful tool," Myson observed. "Are we running short?"

"No," Aranea replied. "We can always harvest more from the obelisk if the need arises."

"So be it," Myson nodded as he stepped back. "I'll let you do your work then."

Aranea nodded as she began the ritual, the threads of the arcane forcing open a portal into the depths of Zaharas.

* * *

**AN: **Yay. Another chapter done. Read, Review, etc.

**AN 2:** This story will have one of the tags switched over (Humor-Drama). While I do intend for a follow up series to focus on lighter moments (Set after Thales has had his skull bashed in), a fully light hearted, humourous series is not in the cards for the time being, especially with some of the darker moments that is to come.

**Next Chapter:**

Cassandra's Curse - Mortis.

Spite- Aranea.

Heartless- Spite.

Of Mice and Men- Ashe.

In the Dark- Lorenz.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27: Parabellum. End.

AN: Next chapter. The burning of Gloucester, part 1.

* * *

"Ferdinand!" Byleth ordered as he brought his sword down upon the lumbering abomination before him. "Bring down Maurice!"

"On it!" Ferdinand shouted back as he turned his mount to charge the titanic beast, his lance pointed high.

"Where is Jeritza?" Hubert shouted over the din of battle.

"Jeritza is holding off two wolves," Yuri said as he brought his sword to bear against another abomination. "He's not going to be ready for a while."

"_Feed!_"

"What the hell was that?" Yuri asked as he spun around, taking a step back as a shambling soldier exploded from the mist, a rusted axe held over his head.

Hubert growled as he blasted the soldier with a powerful spell, wincing as he realized he was running short on magic.

"_Feed! Feed! Feed!_"

"What are they saying?" Edelgard asked as she took a step back, her breathing laboured as she watched Marianne dart from the grasp of Maurice.

"It's Agarthan," Flayn translated, her face pale. "It- it means feed."

Dorothea grimaced as she enveloped Ferdinand in a green light, taking a step back as she dodged an attack from a shambling revenant.

"We need to focus our fire!" Byleth shouted over the din. "Dorothea, Hubert, hit Maurice with something strong! Edelgard, Ferdinand, Seteth, Marianne, pull back!"

"On it!" Seteth shouted as he stabbed his lance into the head of Maurice, cursing as the weapon broke on contact, leaving half of the spear embedded in the head of the monster.

"Professor. Do you have a spare lance?" Ferdinand asked as he leapt off his mount, his armour stained with mud and the corrupted blood of the lesser beasts. "I fear my weapon isn't going to last much longer."

"Where's Anna when you need her?" Yuri growled as he danced behind a revenant, plunging his sword through the disoriented ghost's head. "A first aid kit would be real nice."

"She's still at our camp at the Tailtean Plains," Ferdinand said. "Still, a first aid kit would be appreciated."

"Flayn, Psychic, now!" Byleth shouted as he plunged his sword into Maurice's leg, diving away as the beast retaliated.

"I understand!" Flayn cried, green light flashing within her hands.

"Hubert, ready?" Dorothea asked as Byleth and Edelgard tensed, the former drawing Maurice's attention as the latter fell back behind her shield. "Pin Maurice in place, and I'll do the rest."

"Dark Spikes!" Hubert shouted, a dozen of the arcane lances forming, slamming into the enraged Maurice.

"Burn!" Dorothea shouted as a blue light descended from above, enveloping the corrupted Elite in the process.

"Did that do it?" Hubert asked as he fell to one knee, panting in exhaustion as he looked upon the fading light.

Maurice roared in rage as the light faded, his visible eye glaring at Dorothea as a second blast fell from the sky, forcing the exhausted monster down as it screeched in rage and impotence.

"That had to have done it," Hubert whispered as he forced himself up again. "Nothing in Fodlan should have survived that."

Maurice roared again, the hulking beast rising from the ground once more as Seteth charged forward, buying precious seconds as his broken lance was hurled into the beast's eye, the fallen Elite tearing away Seteth's mount in retaliation.

"Professor!" Seteth shouted in warning as he hit the ground below him.

"Father!" Flayn screamed, her legs having given out as she gaped at the scene in horror.

"_Begone,_" a voice hissed from the fog beyond.

Then a tower of flame devoured Maurice.

* * *

"You wanted to show us something?" the woman asked as Spite stood over the bodies.

"You are the volunteers?" Spite asked the five men and three women before him.

"Correct," the woman said, her hands fiddling with a knife. "You're here to show us how to remove a heart?"

"That is correct," Spite replied. "I will demonstrate with the corpse of the previous Bias, but I expect you to follow up on your own with the other dead."

The woman before him grinned, and Spite turned to the other seven volunteers, "Just a question before we start, how many of you volunteered?"

The woman before him raised her hand, a wide grin on her face.

"Right," Spite muttered as he surveyed the uncomfortable crowd. "One out of eight."

"Shall we begin?" the woman asked.

"Start by removing whatever clothing is on the target," Spite ordered as he knelt, gesturing for the crowd to come forward. "Cloth fibers will dull your blade quickly, and we only have a limited supply of knives."

The crowd murmured and exchanged glances as Spite tore at a vicious cut in Bias' robe, exposing the dead woman's flesh.

"Your first action should be to locate existing wounds around the breastbone or spine," Spite said. "Moving through these areas will speed up the process."

"And what if there aren't any?" a soldier asked. "What if, say, the dead guy was torn in half?"

"Then make your own cut into the breast." Spite said as he pulled his Athame out, the crowd gasping at the sight of an original Athame.

"Is that an original Athame?" another soldier asked.

"His mother forged the set, you imbecile," another soldier snapped at his peer. "If anyone has an original on hand, it's Spite."

"It is an original," Spite replied. "Though I have faith your replicas will serve you well enough in the field."

The group fell silent as Spite cut deep into the dead woman, a single stroke splitting the dead woman open.

"Ensure you are wearing gloves for this," Spite explained, pulling a spare set of gloves from the folds of his robes. "And, for good measure, burn the gloves after we're done."

A nervous laugh left some of the soldiers as Spite reached into Bias' chest, his hand returning with a large stone.

"An Agarthan heart," Spite said. "A major component to travel in Zaharas."

The lead woman grinned as she turned to a dead man nearby, "Can I start with this one?"

"Go ahead," Spite said as he nodded to the rest of the seven. "Each one of you, pick a body. I'll oversee your progress one by one."

"What do we do with the bodies?" a woman asked. "Do we burn them?"

"Correct," Spite replied. "We will burn them once their hearts have been extracted."

"How do we remember them if all the bodies are decomposed?" another soldier asked.

"When we return to Shambhala, the names of those who marched with Bias' expedition will be struck from our records and added to those of the fallen," Spite said. "In the unlikely event we find a survivor, their name will not be struck off, and they will rejoin their comrades in arms."

"Can we begin?" the excited woman asked, a false Athame already in her hands.

"You may begin," Spite said as he removed his bloodstained gloves, his eyes vigilant as the eight men and women before him got to work.

* * *

Maurice crumpled to the earth as the magical spell faded, the monster's strength finally spent as the wolves present sensed his weakness, their jaws tearing into their former master as he died.

"A beast's death," Hubert said with a grimace. "Is everyone alright?"

"We're fine," Dorothea said. "Hubie, I didn't know you could cast Ragnarok."

Hubert blinked his head turning as he looked at Dorothea, "I don't know how to cast Ragnarok."

"Look out!" Seteth snarled as he watched the corpse of Maurice. "More beasts, coming to feed."

A monster screamed in the distance, its silhouette illuminated through the mist as an orb of fire devoured its flesh.

Huber grimaced as a wolf leapt at the burning Crest-beast, the wolf devouring the tainted monster as Maurice began to shrink, the corrupted monster faltering as the remaining wolves tore into it.

"What's happening?" Byleth asked as the lesser abominations began to twist and convulse, their bodies rotting as their benefactor died.

"Maurice was their benefactor," a voice replied from the mist. "With his death, their own Crest stones have betrayed them."

"Mortis." Hubert hissed, recognizing the voice.

"What?" Ferdinand asked, turning to Hubert. "Did I hear that correctly? Mortis?"

"It's her," Seteth confirmed as a figure stepped from the gloom, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the Agarthan.

"And so ends the tale of Maurice," Mortis observed as she stopped over the dying form of the beast, an unmistakable dagger in hand. "At last, his punishment came as deserved."

"Speak sense or not at all," Hubert barked, storming forward. "And for that matter, why are you here?"

Mortis turned to look at the arranged crowd before her, her face cold as she met Hubert's gaze, "I slew Maurice before he could devour your friend Cichol, and this is the thanks I get?"

"You are one of them then," Seteth snarled as he staggered to his feet. "You hold the Athame."

"And y_our wife died alone on the third of March,_" Mortis observed as she glared at the wounded Nabatean. "_Does it still haunt you still, Cichol?_"

"What did she say?" Hubert asked Flayn, his face hard as he glanced back at the Agarthan agent, a orb of dark magic roaring to life in his hands.

"You-," Seteth started, his eyes finding hers. "A scion of Agartha."

Mortis nodded as she turned to the crowd before her, her eyes turning from face to face as Maurice withered and convulsed.

"Heir of Maurice," Mortis barked as she found Marianne, "Come, inherit your birthright."

"Me?" Marianne stuttered, her face full of surprise, her eyes drawn to the dagger the woman held in her hands.

"Maurice is the progenitor of your Crest," Seteth replied, rushing forward, his face hard as he tore a blade from the grasp of the dying man before darting back out of range of Athame. "And this was the Relic weapon he was gifted."

Marianne was silent as she stepped forward, ignoring both the dread Athame as well as the blade Seteth held as she passed, slipping to her knees next to the dying man that was Maurice.

"Maurice?" Marianne asked the dying man, his ruined body clad in rags and scraps of armour, her hand clasped against his.

"You- you bear my curse," Maurice moaned, his eyes focused on the woman before him as he responded to the hand clasped against his.

"I do," Marianne said. "For as long as I have lived, I have bore your Crest, and I've been hated for it."

"I- I'm sorry," Maurice croaked, his brown eyes fighting to remain open. "I should- I should have never taken up Nemesis-"

"And yet you were the fortunate one," Mortis interrupted the conversation. "You outlasted the other Ten Elites. But now you finally join them in the grave."

"You- you are Agarthan," Maurice moaned, his head turned to Mortis as his eyes faded shut. "You- you lied to us."

"_And today we put you down, like the dog you are_," Mortis finished, a murderous glint in her eye.

"Maurice," Seteth said as he knelt next to the dying Elite. "If you have any last words, I will hear them now."

Maurice coughed, his lips red with his ancient blood, "Cichol, I wish I could have taken it all back. All the blood… all the blood."

"I accept your curse," Marianne said as she tightened her grip on the hand of her dying progenitor. "And, in time, I will turn it into a blessing for all of Fodlan. Nevermore will this Crest harm another."

Maurice groaned as his grip slackened, his lips moving but his voice failing, his final words unheard even to the three before him.

"Mortis," Seteth said as he unsheathed Blutgang, the sword point barely inches from Mortis' throat. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now."

"Because I have a message to deliver," Mortis replied with a raised eyebrow. "I think you would want to hear it."

"And what is that?" Seteth asked, his tone hard. "What message have you come to deliver?"

"Count Gloucester has started an open revolt against the Adrestian Empire," Mortis replied. "And oh, he's taken three of your fellows hostage."

* * *

"So why does Lord Periander hate Patrica?" the soldier asked Aranea for the third time.

"_Myson, can I kill him?_" Aranea whispered to the other leader of the expedition. "_If he asks again, I'm going to tear his face off and make him eat it._"

"Pittacus," Myson scolded. "Stealing your brother's threats is not particularly creative."

Aranea turned to glare at the soldier, who flinched and fell silent.

"Still," Myson continued, his voice with a hint of amusement. "You could tell him, give us all an understanding of why we should not mention Lord Periander in Patrica's presence."

Aranea turned to Myson and growled, increasing her pace to avoid the crowd of soldiers behind her.

* * *

"What do we do about her?" Hubert asked Byleth as he stepped off to the side of the clearing, his face grim as he gauged the reaction of Edelgard and Byleth.

"What is it that you believe we should do?" Edelgard asked. "More importantly, do you believe her story about Count Gloucester and a rebellion?"

Hubert grimaced, "I fear the story about Count Gloucester very well may be true. He is by far the most ambitious of the remaining alliance lords, with all other leaders having either sworn absolute loyalty to us or having been killed in action, discounting Claude of course."

"But why would he rebel?" Edelgard asked. "He has served our interests up until now, and it would be suicide to face the full wrath of the imperial legions."

Hubert frowned, "I suspect he was dissatisfied with the gains he made in the war."

"What makes you say that?" Edelgard asked. "As I understand it, Gloucester County was the least affected alliance country apart from Daphnel. He should have the least reason to want to rebel."

"I suspect he wanted more for choosing to side with the Empire," Hubert said. "Perhaps he believes we have snubbed him."

"Who did Mortis say was taken prisoner by him?" Edelgard asked.

"She claims our entire eastern arm has been taken hostage," Hubert replied. "Lorenz, Leonie, and Ignatz were taken prisoner."

"Ignatz went east to find Raphael's sister, didn't he?" Byleth asked.

"That's correct," Hubert said. "Still, she never mentioned Maya."

"Should we ask her?" Byleth asked.

"No," Hubert said. "To reveal information about Maya wouldn't be in our interest. She'd use it to drive Raphael to a rash action."

"How do you know that?" Byleth asked.

"She had information about every member of our class memorized," Hubert replied. "She revealed to me that Lysithea had two Crests well before I learned of it from Lady Edelgard herself."

"She told you?" Edelgard asked as she turned to glare at Mortis. "Is that why you were accommodating to Lysithea?"

"No, of course not," Hubert replied. "I followed your orders to the letter out of my devotion to you, not because I knew why you had chosen to have tea with Lysithea."

"Hubert, just exactly what else did she reveal to you?" Edelgard asked, her face hard.

Hubert glanced at the Agarthan woman before he turned back, "She revealed, with some pride, that she had witnessed the Tragedy of Duscar."

Edelgard narrowed her eyes, "Duscar?"

Hubert swallowed, "There were other things. She mentioned that Sylvain was a disgusting flirt, and I would do well to keep him away from you."

Edelgard sighed as she exchanged a glance with Byleth, "I suppose she was not wrong on that count."

"Edelgard, Hubert, Professor," Seteth said as he approached the group. "We have buried Maurice's body. We can turn back to Garreg Mach now."

Hubert nodded, "Tomorrow, have the corpses of the wolves displayed in public. We must calm the panicked populace and assure them that their food supply is safe."

"What do we do with- her?" Seteth asked, turning to give their prisoner a long look.

"She will have her uses in the future," Edelgard said. "For information, if nothing else."

Seteth nodded, "I do fear her presence. If she is able to alert Shambhala of Flayn's presence, I can only fear the worst."

"She will not be able to contact the enemy," Hubert promised. "I will assign a guard to watch over her at all times."

"Who are you thinking of?" Byleth asked.

"As it stands, Shamir," Hubert replied. "Shamir won't hesitate to put an arrow in her if she tries anything out of the ordinary."

Byleth nodded, "What about Yuri?"

"Another possibility," Hubert confessed. "Yuri would have the skills to track her in the event she escaped into Abyss."

"It's settled then," Edelgard said. "We will return to Garreg Mach, and Yuri and Shamir will become her new jailors."

* * *

"Enough," Aranea said as the soldier approached her, his face sheepish.

"The regent of Shangri-la interfered with our operations regarding the second subject," Aranea barked, her eyes glaring at the man before her.

"He doesn't read history books," the most senior soldier of the group laughed. "He doesn't know who the second subject is."

"He was raised in Shangri-la, wasn't he?" Aranea scoffed.

"He was," the officer replied. "Probably raised on stories about the things Spite did in Enbarr."

"That's Lord Periander to you," Myson said. "I understand that he may prefer his nickname, but his title is Lord Periander."

"Right," the officer muttered. "Our friend here was probably raised on stories about the things Lord Periander did in Enbarr."

"So what did Spite- erm, Lord Periander do?" the soldier asked. "Patricia really hated him."

"Well, what did she say he did?" the officer asked.

"She said he killed a bunch of kids," the young man said.

"That's true," Aranea said. "What she didn't mention was that the deaths were entirely her fault."

"What?" the young man asked, his face stunned.

"During 1174, Thales would move then princess Edelgard back to Enbarr for experiments determining if she could bear a major Crest," Aranea explained. "Patricia turned on her husband and sentenced the other children of Emperor Ionius IX to a painful death."

"Why did she do that?" the man asked, his face pale.

"Lord Periander, my brother, was responsible for reconstructing the blood of the royal children," Aranea said. "Her objective was to spare her own child, Edelgard, from the ritual. Had one of the other children developed a major Crest, she would be successful."

"I-" the soldier said. "I didn't know that."

"Was there anything else she said about my brother?" Aranea asked.

"She also said he gloated over mutilating the children," the soldier said.

"You believe that?" Aranea asked.

The man shook his head, "Lord Periander might be harsh when dealing with discipline, but he's never been needlessly cruel."

"Patricia was the reason my brother earned his current nickname," Aranea said. "But yes, he's never been cruel unless he felt like he had to."

"What did he do to earn his nickname?" the soldier asked.

"Every time a child died or was driven insane by the ritual, he would write a letter to Patricia, informing her of the circumstances of the death and the dead child's last words," Aranea said. "He even included the location of where he buried them in Enbarr."

"Is that how he got his nickname?" the young man asked, his face rapt as he listened to the tale.

"When he was finally allowed to experiment on Edelgard, he personally paid a visit to Fhirdiad to let Patricia know about what he was going to do to her daughter." Aranea said. "This visit was the origin of the nickname he now sports."

"If he had it his way, he would have chosen Edelgard first, and spared the rest?" the soldier asked.

"That's right," Aranea said. "It was common knowledge that he saw the earlier experiments as nothing more than wastes of resources and time, and, more importantly, he laid the blame at Patricia's feet."

"So him going to Patricia personally was what got him the nickname?"

"He marched through Zaharas to personally gloat to Patricia that her attempts to save her daughter had failed," Aranea said, "Even though he's my brother, I still consider that act to be immensely petty and spiteful."

"Was Edelgard's Crest implantation successful?"

Aranea blinked at the soldier's question, "Of course it was. Edelgard was the only success of the experiment."

"A bit too successful, if you ask me," Myson offered from the side of the room. "Especially with this Edelgard turning around and biting the hand that made her so powerful."

"She'll have her comeuppance soon enough," Aranea replied. "Especially once we bring Nemesis into battle."

"Right," Myson said as he moved from his perch. "I think that's enough of a break. Let's move on."

* * *

"Who is that with you?" Balthus whispered to Yuri as they sat at the dinner table.

"Who are you talking about?" Yuri asked, unwilling to look at his friends.

"I think he means Frostbite," Hapi said, digging into her meal, "You know, the one Chatterbox is glaring at."

"Oh, right," Yuri said, his tone light. "Are you getting a crush?"

"Ah hell no," Balthus replied. "She's too much like Constance. I'd get confused."

"She's also looking at you," Hapi pointed out. "You aren't very good at whispering."

"Is she falling for my abs?" Balthus asked with a laugh. "Should I show her some more?"

"I'm not sure, you could show her, but that would mean scarring Hubert for life," Yuri offered. "And Edelgard, and probably the Professor too."

"I am curious though." Constance said. "Why is she dressed as a maid? In this heat too?"

"Yuri-bird," Hapi said. "Spill it. I saw you coming out of the forest with her. And she wasn't dressed like a maid then."

"The Professor asked me to keep a lid on things too," Yuri sighed. "That means I really can't tell you. Couldn't you just pretend she was a maid or something?"

"No I cannot," Constance shot back. "No maid in her rightful place would wear a noblewoman's riding boots."

"Coco, Frostbite is looking at you funny," Hapi observed. "And just why do you have an obsession with boots?"

"Constance, Frostbite really is looking at you," Balthus said with a wince. "She's not looking at me though, which is a damn shame."

"You really don't want her to be looking at you," Yuri promised. "I'm just going to leave it at that, pal."

"Come on, at least tell us her name," Balthus begged. "Better yet, introduce me to her!"

"Frostbite is asking The Bert something," Hapi observed. "And oh, there she goes, she's leaving."

"Hold on!" Constance shouted as she stormed from her seat. "Professor, that's a thief!"

The dining hall fell silent as Constance stormed forward, "Those boots are of the highest quality! No common maid should ever have the funds to acquire them, except for a thief!"

"Why does it look like Coco's about to punch Frostbite?" Hapi asked Yuri. "Yuri-bird, B, can't you stop them?"

"Yuri," Edelgard called as Hubert separated the two women. "Please take our guest to her quarters."

"Right, right," Yuri said as he hurried to his feet. "Balthus, don't eat my food when I'm out."

* * *

"So where are we going?" Mortis asked Yuri as he stepped out of the dining hall.

"Edelgard has given you a room in one of the towers," Yuri replied. "You'll stay there until we can figure out what to do with your information."

"Confirmation should come sooner rather than later," Mortis replied with a shrug. "There was someone about a day behind me."

"And who might that have been?" Yuri asked as they entered another hallway. "Take the second door to the left."

"Maya," Mortis replied. "I forgot her last name. Started with a C or a J or something."

Yuri nodded, "I wouldn't try to escape. The tower's rather high up."

Mortis snorted, "Even if I were to slip out of the tower, I'd still be trapped in a hostile town with no means of escape."

"So long as we are clear on that, I don't think you'll have much problems until tomorrow morning," Yuri said. "Still, I'm stuck watching over you until then. What a pain."

"Worried for the rest of your dinner?" Mortis asked. "The girl grabbed it the moment your back was turned."

Yuri grimaced, a scoff on his lips, "That's Hapi for you."

"Will you come up with me?" Mortis said as she glanced up the stairs. "If I were to walk into an assassin from my employers, wouldn't the blame be placed on you?"

"An assassin?" Yuri asked. "Here?"

"You would know a lot about assassination, wouldn't you?" Mortis asked. "But to answer your question, yes. Garreg Mach opens to the forbidden realm of Zaharas."

"The- the pavilion in the forest?" Yuri asked.

"Oh, so you've seen it then," Mortis observed as she entered the bedroom at the top of the tower, "I must say, I'm impressed by the view up here."

"Never been so high up?" Yuri asked.

"Arianrhod was rather flat, and I never got to explore Fhirdiad on my own time," Mortis explained. "I must ask you a question though, if it doesn't bother you?"

Yuri blinked, "Sure, I'm cool with that."

"How is the County of Varley like?"

"I have no idea," Yuri said with a laugh. "I've never been to the County of Varley. Where is that anyways? Leicester?"

"He was very displeased when you failed your mission." Mortis said. "He was furious when he learned just why you had failed to kill your target."

"Assassination?" Yuri asked, waving the accusation off. "No, Seiros no, I'd never assassinate someone."

Mortis smiled at his response, "I was told that you had made it all the way into the bedroom of Bernadetta von Varley when your resolve broke. Still, it seems that my source was wrong."

"You got a name for this source?" Yuri asked with a disarming smile. "Can't have people running around spreading rumours."

"His name is Adrasteia," Mortis said as she yawned. "Still, I'm afraid that I'm tired. I must sleep now."

"Goodnight," Yuri said to the woman, a false smile plastered on his face as he turned away from the undressing woman.

"Goodnight," Mortis replied, her smile matching his.

Yuri took slow steps before he reached the end of the staircase. When he shut the door to the staircase, he paused for a moment before he bolted down the hallway.

* * *

"Hello son," Count Gloucester said as his prisoners were marched before him. "I apologize for bringing you out so late, but there is something we must speak on."

"No," Lorenz replied. "Father, please, I beg of you, stop this madness before it goes any further."

"Please, hear me out before you dismiss me out of hand," Count Gloucester countered as he waved his guards forward. "I wish to show you something."

"That-" Leonie muttered. "Is that their trunk?"

Lorenz swallowed as he turned to his father, "What have you done to Mortis?"

"Let me ask you a question first," Count Gloucester replied. "What do you see in that trunk?"

Lorenz glanced down at the ruined machine within the trunk before he stepped forward, his hands shifting to the gold bars beneath the machine.

"Gold," Leonie whispered. "That- that's so much gold."

"You are correct," Count Gloucester said. "There is gold within the trunk. Lorenz, look closer. What is it that you see?"

Lorenz swallowed as he glanced down, his hands turning one of the heavy bars over, "This- this is House Ordelia gold."

"I must ask you then," Count Gloucester continued. "What was it that happened to House Ordelia's treasury?"

"It was confiscated by the Adrestian Empire after the Hrym incident," Ignatz whispered. "But- why is it in their trunk?"

"I don't understand," Lorenz whispered. "What were two mercenaries doing with such a large amount of imperial gold?"

"I was curious about that too," Count Gloucester said. "Why was it that two mercenaries were moving stolen gold?"

"They said they were going to Garreg Mach," Leonie said. "What- were they going to do there?"

"I do not know," Count Gloucester said. "The other mercenary, this Mortis, set fire to the old town hall and the ancient church at Myrddin to escape."

"She did what?" Lorenz gasped. "No! That church holds the ashes of Gloucester himself!"

"She slaughtered many members of the barricade group while making her escape," Count Gloucester said. "Including a militiaman who was trying to flee. Are these people the company you wish to keep, son?"

Lorenz swallowed, "Father, what- what are you getting at?"

"I have no doubt that your two friends are more than common mercenaries," Count Gloucester said. "I'm asking for your help to find out just who they are working for, so we can demand justice from the Adrestian Empire when they come knocking at our gates. We may have disagreements over my recent actions, but I believe we should be united in this effort to find justice."

Lorenz swallowed as his father gestured for the guards.

"Can you promise to help me on this endeavor?" Count Gloucester asked.

Lorenz exchanged a glance with Leonie and Ignatz as the guards undid their chains.

"Take the night to think on it," Count Gloucester said. "I'll instruct the housekeeper to give you a warm meal for the night."

* * *

"We should be there soon," Ashe said as they entered a small clearing. "Are you ready?"

Ingrid nodded as she stretched her limbs, "What about enemy patrols?"

Ashe nodded as he dismounted from his horse, "I'll go ahead then, you wait here."

Ingrid shook her head, "You can't scout the entire fortress alone. I'll come with you."

"I- I don't want to put you in danger," Ashe protested.

"Ashe, I chose to become a knight to protect people," Ingrid reminded her partner. "I can't do that if I'm behind you all the time. Think of Lady Conand, would she hide behind Lord Charon's shield?"

Ashe shook his head, "I'm just not sure you're in a position where you can go forward."

"What makes you say that?" Ingrid asked.

"You're wearing too much armour," Ashe said. "And, erm, it's white. You'd be very visible to a guard patrol."

Ingrid glanced down at her armour and cursed under her breath, "You're right about that, but I- I can't just stay behind while you're going into danger."

"Then you can join him in that danger," a voice called out. "In fact, you are already in danger."

Ingrid spun around, her eyes finding the grinning face of a sentry, hidden in a bush.

"I wouldn't move if I were you," a second voice, this one female, added. "You're surrounded and we have lots of pointy things."

"Ashe?" Ingrid asked, her eyes darting around as more shadowy figures rose from the bushes. "Are we… surrounded?"

"Give it up," a soldier said, nudging Ashe with the butt of a spear. "Come quietly and we'll put in a good word with Spite."

* * *

"Lord Periander," the guard greeted as Spite turned away from the pyre, a orb of fire in his hand.

"Oh, is this a bad time?" the guard asked. "We found two inflitatiors on patrol."

"Where?" Spite asked as he extinguished the fire, turning his gaze to the soldier before him.

"We're dragging them over to camp," the soldier said.

"That's not what I meant," Spite replied. "Where did you find these two infiltrators?"

"Pardon?" the man asked. "We found them on the road."

"Did they have horses?" Spite asked as he followed the man forward.

"They did," the guard said. "They were dismounting and discussing how they were going to get to us."

"That's not what we consider an infiltrator," Spite said. "Which squadron are you from again?"

"Uh, I'm from Olympia's squadron," the guard stammered. "If they weren't infiltrators, what would they be then?"

"Scouts," Spite replied. "Infiltrator is a term used for hostiles who intend to blend in with our forces. Unless they were wearing our uniforms, they would be classified as scouts."

"Oh, right," the guard said. "I'll note that for the future."

"You do that," Spite said. "Ensure there is a full ambush squadron present at the location where you found them. It's very likely these two won't be the first ones."

The guard nodded, "They're being held in the command tent."

Spite nodded as he turned his gaze to the tent, "Very well. I will speak to them… alone."

* * *

Ashe swallowed as a man entered the tent, his gaze unwilling to rise above the grassy ground below.

"Before we begin, I would like to confirm something," the man said, the torchlight giving the man's robes an orange hue.

Ashe swallowed as he glanced up at the man.

"You are Lady Ingrid Brandt Galatea," the man said as he looked to Ingrid. "Is this correct?"

Ingrid exchanged a glance with Ashe before she turned back to the man, nodding.

"Ashe…" the man said as he turned his gaze. "Do you prefer Ubert or Gaspard?"

Ashe swallowed, "Ubert."

"Noted," the man said. "You may refer to me as Periander or Spite. Both names are acceptable."

"How do you know our names?" Ashe asked.

"I am asking the questions here," Spite replied. "But, to sate your curiosity, I was briefed intensively on the Class of 1180 at the Officer's Academy."

Ashe opened his mouth to question the man further, but closed his mouth a moment later.

"Now, I will ask you a series of questions," Spite said, his eyes shifting between the two faces before him. "In response to an honest answer, I will allow you to ask me anything you wish. In the event you lie to me, the offer will be no longer valid."

Ingrid swallowed, "I will not betray the Empire."

"What would you consider betrayal?" Spite asked.

Ingrid fell silent as she exchanged a glance with Ashe.

"Lord Periander?" a guard called. "Something's happened."

"What?" Spite asked as he turned around, his face hard as he looked at the guard. "I was conducting an interrogation here."

"Lady Bias wants a word with you," the guard said.

"Lady Bias is dead," Spite pointed out. "She's on the pyre."

"I- I meant Lady Aranea," the guard stammered. "Sorry, it's been a hectic day."

"Oh," Spite replied as he turned to observe his prisoners. "Watch over these two while I am gone. Ensure they do not escape."

* * *

"Why are you here, Aranea?" Spite asked his sister as he stepped from the tent.

Aranea grimaced at the presence of a guard, "Official business, dear brother, could I take you aside? I would rather discuss this in private."

Spite nodded, "There are a number of empty towers in the area, though I fear some of them may have corpses within them."

Aranea shook her head, "I don't want to lose my dinner, I'm afraid."

Spite grimaced as he waved the guard away, "So be it, we can talk at the southern edge of the fortress."

"Why the south?" Aranea asked. "What's wrong with the tent?"

"Don't question me, dear sister," Spite replied. "I was conducting an interrogation there."

Aranea raised an eyebrow. "And I walked here from Shambhala. I'm hungry, tired, and I would like a place to sleep."

"You will get all those things," Spite replied. "Just not in the tent where I am conducting an interrogation."

"Who are you interrogating?" Aranea asked. "I'm curious."

"Two members of the Black Eagles Strike Force," Spite replied. "Who happened to wander into a patrol I had set up."

Aranea raised an eyebrow at the words of her brother, "And who are these two prisoners you hold?"

"Ashe Ubert and Ingrid Brandt Galatea," Spite replied. "Both under watch by a guard."

"Very interesting," Aranea said. "Does your guard speak our tongue?"

"No," Spite replied. "Of my expedition, only Talos, Vito, and Olympia speak the language, and none of them are here."

"Ah, lovely," Aranea replied. "_Then I'll get to the point._"

"_What is it you need from me?_" Spite asked.

"_Thales has proposed raising Seiros_," Aranea replied, raising a hand to stop her brother's furious reply. "_He does so because Nemesis has refused to fight for us without Seiros_."

"_And I was sent here because I was going to protest fielding Nemesis,_" Spite replied, his tone frigid. "_Is that it?_"

"_I believe you were merely sent here on an errand," _Aranea replied. "_Still, Nemesis' refusal to cooperate with us has been a problem, one we suspect that bringing Seiros to him, in chains, will resolve._"

"_Why does the Septet come up with the worst ideas when I'm not around?_" Spite asked. "And w_hat is it that you need from me exactly?_"

"_The previous Periander's notes,_" Aranea said. "_Early in his experiments, he created a ritual where he would raise a revenant that would obey his commands only, but he deemed it a failure._"

"_You seem to have your history muddled, dear sister,_" Spite said, his arms crossed against his chest. "_The experiment was a failure, but not for that reason._"

"Boss, what is it that you are saying?" the guard from the tent asked. "Sorry, I don't speak Agarthan."

"That's the point," Spite replied. "We're trying to have a private conversation."

"Right," the guard said, his head down. "Sorry about that."

"It's quite alright," Aranea said, a wide smile on her lips. "We're just finishing up here."

Spite nodded, "_I must consult my notes, but I must finish my interrogation first. Would you like to observe?_"

"_That boy of yours put an arrow in me,_" Aranea replied with a scoff. "_Why wouldn't I want to observe?_"

Spite nodded as he gestured to the guard, "Stand outside. I will need the prisoners to be taken away when we are finished."

"Of course, Lord Periander," the guard said.

* * *

"My my," a familiar voice said as Ashe tightened his grip on Ingrid's hand. "You've got a pair of lovebirds!"

"Aranea, that's enough," Spite said. "The sooner I can finish with them, the sooner you can get some sleep."

Ashe swallowed as he looked up, a cold fear gripping his heart as he stared into the face of Cornelia Armin.

* * *

**AN:** Another chapter done. Looking back on my notes, it would appear that I've misspelled "Zaharas" as "Zahras". Expect a series of me editing chapters to remove this mistake.

Read, Review, Follow.

Author Question: Is the current Summary too cheery or comedic? Should I change it to something more serious?

**Next chapter: **

Blood- Raphael.

In the Dark- Mortis.

New Orders- Ashe and Ingrid.

The Lingering Shadow- ?

Coryphaeus- Spite.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28. The burning of Gloucester. Part 1.

* * *

"Yuri, you look like something's happened," Hubert said as the lilac haired man rushed into the central dining hall. "Was there something that happened with the prisoner?"

"Is the Professor here?" Yuri asked. "Mortis mentioned a name."

"Which was?" Hubert asked.

"Adrasteia," Yuri said, watching as a moment of shock flashed across Hubert's face. "You recognize the name."

"I do," Hubert said. "Lady Edelgard and the Professor have stepped out. I must inform them."

"Should I return to my post?" Yuri asked. "She said she was going to sleep, but I don't trust her."

"Dorothea, Ferdinand," Hubert barked, the couple glancing up at his words. "I have something for you to do."

"What do you need us for?" Ferdinand asked as Hubert gestured for the two of them.

"Our prisoner is being held in the Charon Tower," Hubert said. "And she's just mentioned Adrasteia."

Dorothea flinched, "Are you certain?"

"She did," Yuri said. "I'm not sure what the name means, but it's clearly something important."

"Adrasteia was the name of the Agarthan magister who conducted blood reconstruction procedures on the Imperial Royal Family," Hubert explained. "Thus, I must ask you, in what way did Mortis speak of him?"

"She said he was angry when I failed to assassinate Bernadetta," Yuri said.

Hubert's eyes narrowed, "So you believe Adrasteia to be responsible for ordering the attack?"

Yuri nodded, "There's only so many people who know why I was there, and a Shambhalan lord should not be one of them."

Hubert nodded, "I will find the professor. The three of you will guard her door. Ensure she does not leave her tower until we get there."

* * *

"Professor!" Hubert called as he ran through the halls of the Officer's Academy, his eyes scanning each hallway for the presence of Byleth and Edelgard.

"Hubert, you don't usually run," Edelgard said as she turned around. "Catch your breath, and then we can talk."

"My apologies, Lady Edelgard," Hubert said. "The prisoner has mentioned Adrasteia."

"What?" Edelgard asked, her attention rapt. "Where is she now?"

"Still within Charon Tower," Hubert replied. "Yuri, Ferdinand, and Dorothea are on their way."

"Then we shall join them," Byleth said as he turned to Hubert. "Lead the way."

"Of course," Hubert said as he turned, his pace brisk as he navigated the corridors of Garreg Mach.

"Was there any context to her mentioning Adrasteia?" Byleth asked Hubert as they hurried down a deserted corridor.

"Yuri interpreted her words as that Adrasteia ordered the assassination attempt on Bernadetta," Hubert explained. "And that he was furious when the plot failed."

"Interesting," Edelgard said. "Count Varley was amongst the Seven, yet it seems that even his own Agarthan allies hated him enough to order an assassination."

Hubert nodded as he turned a corner, "Yuri, Ferdinand, Dorothea."

"Doesn't look like anyone has stepped out after Yuri," Ferdinand said. "Still, we haven't opened the door yet."

"Very well," Hubert said. "Let us move forward as one."

* * *

Mortis sighed as she leaned out of the window, the warm breeze refreshing on her bare shoulders.

The door behind her burst open, the wooden door slamming against the opposite wall as Mortis spun around, her eyes taking a moment to take into account the stunned face of Hubert von Vestra.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Mortis asked as she flushed a deep crimson.

"Adrasteia," Hubert snarled. "You will tell us about him."

"And you thought to break into my room, while I was undressed, was the time to get your answers?" Mortis shot back. "If you had any decency, you would have waited for me to get dressed first."

Hubert grimaced, "I will step out. You will be dressed in two minutes or we will drag you out."

Mortis growled at Hubert as Dorothea pushed her way through the door.

"Hubie, stand outside. I'll help her get dressed."

Mortis swallowed as she studied the woman before her.

"Dorothea Arnault," Mortis observed as the door swung shut. "You're not really here to help me dress, are you?"

"I am," Dorothea promised. "Hubie's not particularly sensitive."

"I'm aware of that," Mortis replied as she sat down on the bed, "If I had my magic with me, I would likely have obliterated him."

"Regardless, I'd like to thank you for saving Seteth," Dorothea said, a smile on her lips. "Can I call you Mori?"

Mortis laughed at the comment as she shook her head, "I prefer Mortis."

"Do you need help with those clothes?" Dorothea asked.

"I'm not sure I can this maid outfit on within a two minute timeframe," Mortis replied. "I suspect that was their intention when I was handed this set."

"I like your boots," Dorothea commented as she leaned against the wall, "Did you get them in Enbarr?"

Mortis shook her head, "I couldn't tell you. It was a gift."

"Your time's almost up," Hubert called through the door.

"Oh shut it, Hubie," Dorothea shot back. "It's not like the clothes you gave her are easy to put on."

Mortis grimaced as she slipped on her boots, "Do you think I look presentable?"

"You're wearing a chemise and a pair of boots," Dorothea observed. "Still, I can get Ferdie to give his jacket to you."

Mortis nodded as Hubert pounded on the door, "Alright then, I suppose I'll have to be satisfied with that."

* * *

"But- you… you died." Ingrid whispered. "I- we watched you die."

"How rude," Aranea countered. "You would say such things to my face?"

"Aranea, that's enough," Spite said. "I said you were allowed to observe, not conduct my interrogation for me."

"I'll ask them what I want," Aranea replied.

"Conduct your own interrogation later," Spite shot back. "Let me do my work, and then I can have you toy with them."

"You were never any fun." Aranea replied. "And what if they want to ask me something then?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," Spite replied."Now, allow me to get back to work."

"What is it you want to know from us?" Ingrid asked. "The ones who came here should already have told you what you wanted to know."

Spite paused, his eyes watching the woman before he spoke, "I'm not sure what you mean by that. I would rather you clarify what you said."

Ingrid swallowed, "Our- prisoner said that her group had abandoned her and stolen her horse."

"And that was why you were able to take this prisoner in the first place?" Spite guessed. "Because her companions had abandoned her?"

Ingrid nodded.

"Like we were saying earlier," Aranea said. "A cabal fight."

"Looks like it," Spite said. "Is the Immaculate One still in Fhirdiad?"

"Rhea- Rhea is still where she fell," Ingrid said. "We haven't been able to move the body."

"Very well," Spite said. "And how were you kidnapped from your camp?"

"They ambushed me," Ingrid said. "But- I don't remember after that."

"Then what is it that you remember?" Spite asked.

"They said they rescued me from the dragon," Ingrid said.

Spite nodded, "Lord Ubert, can you confirm this?"

Ashe swallowed, "I- I found a piece of Ingrid's armour in the city. It would seem that the dragon carried her off."

Spite closed his eyes as the scene played out in his head, "Aranea, any questions?"

"None," Aranea replied. "Like you said, I'll conduct my own investigation later."

"Very well then," Spite said, his eyes boring into the two before him. "You two have one question each. Use it wisely."

"Are you Kronya's brother?" Ashe blurted out.

"Such a simple question," Spite answered. "And an irrelevant one. Are you certain that's what you want to go with?"

Ashe paused before he nodded, "I want to know that."

"So be it," Spite replied. "Yes, I am Kronya's brother. What of it?"

"What do you intend to do with the information we gave you?" Ingrid asked.

Spite snorted, "My peers in the Septet wish to visit a particular dishonour on her corpse."

"Look, I'm just the messenger," Aranea shot. "I didn't want anything to do with it. Thales and Solon were the ones who proposed it."

"Solon?" Ashe asked, suddenly aware of the conversation.

"What of it?" Spite asked. "Ah, right. You've met him before."

Ashe swallowed, "You said you were Kronya's brother, right?"

"Are you deaf?" Spite asked. "Yes, I confirmed that a mere minute ago."

"Kronya- she died," Ashe spluttered, falling silent as a murderous glint flashed in Spite's eyes.

"Yes, I'm aware that your party slew my sister," Spite hissed. "And yes, I want to kill you for it, but I understand that you may be more useful alive."

"What?" Ashe asked, stunned. "Leonie struck Kronya last, but she didn't kill her!"

Spite's eyes narrowed, "Pinelli?"

"He's telling the truth," Ingrid protested. "Leonie hit her last, but she didn't kill Kronya."

"So what did?" Spite asked with a scoff. "What, did a bear appear from the woods and devour her?"

"No-" Ashe said. "Solon killed her."

Spite paused turning to Ashe, "Pardon?"

"Solon ripped her heart out," Ashe explained. "Said he was sending the Professor to the forbidden realm of Za-Zahara?"

"Zaharas," Spite whispered, his face growing pale. "The Forbidden Realm of Zaharas."

"Enough about these lies," Aranea snarled as she pulled Spite away. "Guards! Take these two away. We're done with them."

* * *

"Tell us about Adrasteia," Hubert said as he towered over the woman in the chair.

Mortis met Hubert's gaze before she inched her chair back, the legs scraping against the floor as she did so.

"Enough," Edelgard said as she stepped forward. "Hello Mortis, it's been a while."

"Edelgard von Hresvelg," Mortis replied. "I see you're doing well."

"Tell us about Adrasteia," Edelgard said.

Mortis shrugged, "Where do you want me to begin?"

Edelgard blinked, "You are an acquaintance of his, are you not?"

Mortis nodded, "And what of it?"

"Tell us about him then," Edelgard said. "I'm sure you have a great deal to say."

"Very well," Mortis replied. "Adrasteia is forty five years old and is a member of our ruling Septet."

Edelgard narrowed her eyes, "You're toying with us."

"You have me alone in a room in my underwear," Mortis shot back. "Hardly a time for me to be playing silly games."

"Mori, tell us about what Adrasteia is doing now," Dorothea said with a disarming smile.

Mortis shook her head, "I couldn't tell you, even if I wanted to. I last had contact with him at the Bridge of Myrddin almost three days ago."

"Why did you lose contact with him?" Edelgard asked. "Is he still at Myrddin?"

Mortis gave Edelgard a strange look, "The machine I was using to communicate with him was destroyed as I broke through the rebel blockade."

"And without this machine, you can't contract Adrasteia?" Hubert asked.

"I still can write a letter to him," Mortis replied. "Still, I doubt I can get it sent to him in time."

"Where would this letter go?" Hubert asked.

"I always knew where he was living," Mortis replied. "So it would have to depend on which safehouse he was in."

"How many of these safehouses were there?" Hubert asked.

"Four," Mortis replied. "Still, all of them have either been destroyed or ransacked."

"And these are?" Hubert pressed.

"The residence of Cornelia Armin in both Fhirdiad and Arianrhod," Mortis replied with a smile. "As well as safehouses in Derdiru and Enbarr."

"So he's familiar with Cornelia Armin as well," Hubert concluded.

"Both of them in fact," Mortis replied.

"Both?" Byleth asked, his eyes turned to the woman before him. "What do you mean by both?"

"It is said that Cornelia Armin went a sudden personality shift one day," Ferdinand reasoned. "Perhaps that was when the first one was replaced by the second."

Mortis shook her head, "No, that wasn't the case. There were two Cornelias, not three."

"So why did you need two of them?" Edelgard asked. "And why were they changed?"

"Why don't you bring her experiment in?" Mortis asked. "I think she would want to hear this."

Edelgard grimaced as she turned away, "Yuri, would you get Hapi for me?"

* * *

"Brother!" Maya cried as she leapt at her brother, slamming into him as her arms found their way across his waist.

"Maya?" Raphael blurted, freezing in place, his dinner forgotten. "What are you doing here?"

"General Kristen?" the soldier behind Maya asked. "We have dire news from the Great Bridge of Myrddin, do you know where the Regent of Garreg Mach is?"

"Linhardt's gone to bed already," Hilda said as she turned to the soldier. "Still, the Professor is here."

The man nodded, "Where is he? This news is very important."

"He's with us," Yuri said as he interjected into the conversation. "Hapi, the Professor wants to tell you something."

"What is it, Yuri-bird?" Hapi asked. "What does Chatterbox want with me?"

Yuri grimaced. "It has something to do with Mortis."

"Huh, Frostbite, alright then. Let's go."

* * *

"Edelgard? Professor?" Yuri asked as he stepped into the room. "There's a soldier here to see you."

Edelgard exchanged a glance with Hubert as the Minister for the Imperial Household turned around.

"I'll see to this," Hubert said. "Continue on without me."

"No, let him in," Byleth said. "We should all hear him out before we act."

"Alright then," Hubert said. "As you say."

"So be it," Byleth said as he turned to the door. "You may enter."

The man nodded as he entered the room, taking a moment to realize that a third of the Imperial High Command stood in the room with him.

"What is the message you have for us?" Hubert asked.

The man blinked as he looked at Mortis, "Did Lady Mortis not inform you of the rebellion at Myrddin?"

Hubert exchanged a glance with Edelgard, "We were informed, yes, but I would like to hear your report."

The man cleared his throat, "Count Gloucester has taken three hostages, and has blockaded the Great Bridge of Myrddin. Rebel forces consist of his household troops and a strong militia force."

"Have you engaged in any skirmishes with the rebels?" Ferdinand asked.

The man shook his head, "Lady Mortis broke through the southern blockade during her breakout, but we have had no other combat with them."

"What orders have you left your soldiers still at Myrddin?" Edelgard asked. "Gloucester County has a considerable amount of cropland that we will require for the winter months."

The man nodded, "Our forces will not engage unless we are attacked by Gloucester's forces, but I'm unsure of what they might intend in the future."

Edelgard closed her eyes, "Very well then, you are dismissed."

The man saluted before he hurried away from the room, shutting the door behind him.

"I told you so," Mortis said. "What need was there for me to lie?"

"You could have been luring our forces into an ambush," Hubert pointed out. "Indech has claimed that a task force of your soldiers attempted to kill him."

"Ah, and you believe we are superior to your warriors?" Mortis asked, an eyebrow raised. "I'm flattered, truly flattered."

"Enough," Edelgard snapped. "Tell us about Cornelia and what she has to do with Adrasteia."

Mortis turned her head to look at Edelgard, "The first Cornelia Armin had ambitions to be one of Shambhala's ruling Septet, and she sought to subvert the blood of the Four Apostles by bending it to our will."

Hapi closed her eyes, her hands clenched into fists as Yuri placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Regardless, the original Cornelia's experiments ended in abject failure," Mortis said. "Her attempts to create a weapon were successful, but nobody, even to this day, has ever figured out a way to counteract her original experimentations."

"And how is this first Cornelia connected to Adrasteia?" Hubert asked.

"In the time Cornelia wasted building a useless weapon, Spite perfected the Blood Reconstruction formula," Mortis replied. "Cornelia was ordered to dispose of her failed experiment."

Hubert glanced at Hapi, "Since Hapi is still here, I assume this process never happened?"

"Correct," Mortis replied. "She continued her experiments in secret until she was found out and subsequently executed by Adrasteia and the second Cornelia Armin in the fall of 1171."

"And who was this second Cornelia?" Hubert asked. "How familiar was she with Adrasteia?"

Mortis raised an eyebrow, "You slew her in Arianrhod."

"We did," Hubert said. "And how familiar was she with Adrasteia?"

"They're twins," Mortis replied. "I would suspect they know one another quite well."

"Twins?" Edelgard asked. "Adrasteia and the second Cornelia Armin are twins?"

Hapi opened her eyes, "And what was it that she did to me?"

"The second Cornelia Armin attempted to reverse the magics of the first," Mortis explained. "Still, as I understand it, she figured you were a lost cause."

Hapi swallowed, "Then why did she do what she did to me?"

"To alleviate boredom," Mortis replied. "You were never her first priority in Fhirdiad."

"So what was?" Edelgard asked.

"Watching over your mother, in fact," Mortis replied, looking over to Edelgard. "And convincing her to… help us with a problem."

Edelgard swallowed as Hapi turned to run, Yuri hot on her heels.

"What does my mother have to do with any of this?" Edelgard asked, her face pale.

"I have two questions for you," Mortis replied. "Firstly, why do you think you were the last child out of eleven to suffer blood reconstruction? Adrasteia wasn't going down a list by age, nor was he pulling names out of a hat."

Edelgard took a step back, "You mean-"

"Second, why was it that in the aftermath of the Tragedy of Duscar, your mother's corpse was never found?"

"No-" Edelgard whispered. "No- she couldn't have."

"Because your mother sold her husband and her second family out for a chance to save you," Mortis said, her eyes boring into Edelgard's eyes. "Because she fed the souls and bodies of your siblings to Adrasteia's rituals for the smallest chance that it would spare you the agony of blood reconstruction."

Edelgard stared at Mortis for a second longer before her legs gave out, her eyes rolling into her skull as Byleth dove for her.

"Lady Edelgard!" Hubert cried, all pretenses of interrogating Mortis forgotten as he rushed to Edelgard's aid.

"We'll finish this later," Byleth hissed as he lifted Edelgard from the position on the ground. "We're done for the night."

Dorothea nodded as he grabbed Mortis by her shoulder, forcing the woman to stand as Byleth and Hubert carried Edelgard away.

* * *

"Where is everyone?" Sylvain asked as he dismounted, wincing as he stretched his legs.

"The sun is barely up," Felix pointed out. "I don't know, maybe people are asleep?"

"Well, that's one possibility," Sylvain said as he yawned. "Well, let's find Linhardt so we can report to him, and then maybe we can get some sleep."

"Whatever you want to report to him, you may report to me," Hubert said as he stepped from a side door.

"No, thanks Hubert, it's Linhardt who has control over the troops-" Sylvain said, turning to Hubert. "Hold on- Hubert, I thought you were in Enbarr."

"We arrived two days ago," Hubert replied. "What are you doing here?"

"There's a suspicious army currently occupying Conand Tower," Sylvain said. "We came down here to secure an army to dislodge it."

"Is this true?" Hubert asked Felix. "Where did you find information about an army occupying Conand Tower?"

"We captured one alive," Felix said. "She said there was an army occupying Conand Tower."

"You captured one what alive?" Hubert asked as he waved the two men forward, the three moving to enter the halls of Garreg Mach.

"An enemy," Felix said. "The same bastards as Cornelia."

"Cornelia Armin?" Hubert asked.

"That's right," Sylvain said. "Said Cornelia was related to Kronya and some guy named Spite, said this Spite and Cornelia were twins."

Hubert narrowed his eyes as he turned around, "In that case, I have something to ask you."

"Oh?" Sylvain asked. "What is it?"

"You'll see."

* * *

When Byleth felt Edelgard stir, he tightened his hug against her, the two of them spending a long moment in the morning light.

"I've been thinking," Edelgard whispered, her voice tense. "It all makes sense now."

Byleth remained silent as he pressed his lips against Edelgard's forehead.

"My mother-" Edelgard started. "Adrasteia's words. They all make sense now."

Byleth inched closer, pushing away a stray lock of hair from Edelgard's face.

"I'm sorry," Edelgard said, pushing away Byleth's arms, forcing herself from the bed. "There's a rebellion that threatens to tear all we have worked for to pieces, and I'm wasting time over the past."

Byleth grimaced as he climbed from their shared bed, silent as he watched Edelgard dress.

"Are we ready to go?" Edelgard asked as she tossed away a coat from the depths of the closet.

Byleth closed his eyes as he moved closer to Edelgard, the face of his father flashing through his mind.

"Professor?" Edelgard asked again, her voice quiet.

Byleth brought his arms around her waist, pinning Edelgard into place as the first tears fell.

"Dear?" Edelgard whispered, her voice stunned.

"Let it out," Byleth whispered.

"Professor?" Edelgard gasped. "We need to get to work."

"El," Byleth stated, his voice gentle. "We swore an oath to share every joy and every sorrow."

"I know," Edelgard whispered, her head bowed. "I- I feel like I've lost her all over again."

Byleth nodded as they sank to the ground, "Every time I learn something about Jeralt, I see him in a new light. Every comment from a soldier, every village he visited. They all had something about him I never knew."

"I-" Edelgard whispered. "What if I'm like her?"

"I don't believe that," Byleth said. "Because I know you would sacrifice yourself before you let harm come to those you care for. You wouldn't hide behind the bodies of others."

Edelgard nodded, "If I-"

"No ifs," Byleth said. "I have faith in that."

* * *

"Boss?" Talos asked as Spite turned his gaze to the other soldier.

"Good morning Talos," Spite replied. "What is it that you need from me today?"

"Lord Solon has arrived," Talos explained. "He's demanding a meeting with you."

Spite narrowed his eyes, "Is that so?"

"He says it's very urgent," Talos replied. "And a matter that he wishes to speak to you immediately about."

"Very well then," Spite replied. "Where is he right now?"

"Lord Periander," Solon said, his tone frigid. "I see you are hard at work."

"My forces have encountered forward scouts from the Adrestian Empire," Spite explained. "We aim to leave this blasted tower by nightfall.

"The job will be done in due time," Solon replied. "Tell me, Lord Periander, what is your analysis on this debacle?"

"I've explained my theory to my lieutenants before. Any of them will be happy to brief you on the matter." Spite said. "Was there any other reason you wanted to speak to me?"

"Indeed," Solon said. "The presence of your agents in the hands of the rebel Count Gloucester has been deemed too high of a risk to let play out."

"Very well then," Spite nodded. "What has been decided?"

"You will retrieve your two agents from the territory of Gloucester," Solon stated. "You will also determine if any of the animals have learnt of the location of Shambhala, and if so, you will eliminate them."

Spite narrowed his eyes, "Very well then. What forces have been seconded to me for this mission?"

"You will be our… Coryphaeus during this mission," Solon stated. "You will be granted two squadrons of soldiers or the services of another member of the Septet."

Spite nodded, "What of this operation?"

"I will personally oversee this operation," Solon said. "So long as all other matters are in line, there will be no problems with a different member of the Septet leading here."

Spite nodded, "I will take time to decide which squads on hand I will take into my mission."

"So be it," Solon replied.

* * *

"Lady Aranea?" the soldier asked as he approached the tent.

"It's Lady Pittacus to you," Aranea corrected. "What is it that you need?"

"Right, sorry. Lady Pittacus," the man stammered. "Lord Solon has arrived at the camp."

"Solon?" Aranea asked, her eyes narrow. "Are you certain?"

"Yes, he was speaking to Lord Periander when I spotted him."

Aranea nodded, "That's certainly a change of plans, but thank you for letting me know."

The man nodded as he hurried away.

"Solon is alive?" Ashe whispered, his eyes wide.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" Aranea asked, her voice dismissive. "Why not Solon?"

"But- what about Kronya?" Ingrid asked.

"I'm afraid not," Aranea replied. "There was not enough material present to permit that particular resurrection."

"And why was that?" Ingrid asked.

"Thales brought enough material to bring me and Solon back, but I don't think he intended for Kronya to be brought back."

"So her soul is still down there?" Spite asked.

Aranea spun around at the sound of her brother's voice, "Well, the cat's out of the bag isn't it."

"My orders have changed," Spite said as he glared at his sister. "Now I have to go find Gloucester and slit his throat."

"Did Lorenz do something?" Ashe asked, his face nervous.

"No," Spite replied. "I'm referring to his father, Count Gloucester, not your friend."

"What happened?" Ingrid asked.

"Well, for starters, he's declared a rebellion against the Adrestian Empire," Spite said. "And oh, he's taken several of your friends hostage."

Ashe swallowed, "Then what are you going to do?"

"Enough," Spite said. "You don't need to know that."

"_What is it that you intend anyhow?_" Aranea asked.

"_Gloucester has three hostages that are of no interest to us_," Spite replied. "_I'm going to leave him with five._"

Aranea raised an eyebrow, "_These two?_"

"_Who else?_" Spite asked. "_Still, I've been granted permission to take two battalions or a member of the Septet._"

"_And you want me,_" Aranea finished. "_How touching._"

"What are you saying?" Ashe asked.

Spite turned to the younger man and frowned, "You're coming with us. Get up."

"Where are we going?" Ingrid asked.

"You'll see," Spite replied.

* * *

"I told you already," the man said to the woman on the ship. "I'm not exactly comfortable with this."

"Oh cheer up," the woman said. "This is a training exercise, not an actual expedition."

"Mom, please, I already promised the Professor that I'd never return to Fodlan again."

"Yes, and to be recognized as a good king, you'll need the respect of your men," Tiana von Riegan replied. "Besides, it's not like where we're going is going to be occupied."

"The last time anyone went there, there was a bandit warband there," Claude protested. "And a cursed Hero's Relic."

"Lovely," Tiana replied. "If you want to be recognized as king, you'll have to be feared before you can earn any respect."

Claude grimaced.

"Claude," Tiana reminded her son. "Will you be of any use to Fodlan as the next king if nobody respects your rule?"

"No," Claude replied. "I- I just didn't want to come to blows with the Empire so soon after Derdriu."

"Sweetie," Tiana chided. "If none of the other Beys or Pashas respect your crown, then what's stopping them from breaking any treaty you set up with your precious Professor?"

Claude closed his eyes as he nodded, "I understand Mother."

Tiana laughed, "Cheer up son, by no means should you need to spill blood this campaign, not unless you take to hunting game."

"Right," Claude said. "As you say mom."

* * *

"Is that her?" Hubert asked as Mortis was dragged forward, the Agarthan sorceress glaring at Hubert.

Sylvain swallowed as he looked down at the woman before him, blinking as he turned back to Hubert, "What?"

"Is this the woman you saw with Cornelia in Fhirdiad all those years ago?"

"Sylvain Jose Gloucester," Mortis hissed. "The last time I saw you, you were trying to look up my skirts."

"Yep, that's her," Sylvain confirmed, wary of gossipers. "Though she wasn't against wearing clothes then."

Hubert nodded, "Yuri and Shamir have already been assigned to guard her, but I wish to add you as a third shift."

"Why do you need me?" Sylvain asked.

"Two guard shifts are too long," Hubert replied. "Fresher guards will make a difference if she tries anything."

"What do you want me to do then?" Sylvain asked. "If she tries anything?"

"She is too valuable an asset to kill outright," Byleth said as he entered the room, nodding a greeting to Sylvain as he entered. "Still, do what you must to ensure she does not escape us."

"Hey teach," Sylvain said as he yawned. "Sorry, we rode here all night."

Byleth nodded, "What's this report about an army at Conand Tower?"

"One of theirs," Sylvain said, pointing to Mortis. "She said something about a bias."

"A bias?" Edelgard asked. "Is your source biased against them?"

Mortis shook her head, "Bias is a member of the Septet."

"What do you know about this Bias?" Edelgard asked Mortis.

"Why would I tell you more?" Mortis asked. "It's not like I get anything out of it."

Edelgard grimaced, "Hubert, make her talk."

Hubert grimaced as he pulled a dagger from the folds of his cloak.

"Is that- Kronya's?" Sylvain asked, taking a step back from Hubert.

"It's mine," Mortis shot back.

"Wait-" Felix said. "Our captive said only some guy named Spite and a Mortis had access to a real Athame."

"Ah," Mortis replied. "It seems like I've forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Mortis, pleased to meet you."

"Who is this Spite then?" Hubert asked.

"Another name for Adrasteia," Mortis said. "There's three things he answers to."

"Adrasteia, Spite and what else?" Hubert asked.

"No, nobody calls him Adrasteia anymore," Mortis scoffed. "Spite, Lord Periander, and Addy."

"Addy?" Hubert asked.

"A cute nickname by his sister," Mortis explained as she turned around the room. "Sort of how your father used to call you El."

* * *

"El!" Byleth shouted as he grabbed at his wife, her fingers wrapped around Mortis' throat. "We need her alive!"

"Lady Edelgard!" Hubert shouted, grabbing at Edelgard's other arm. "Please!"

"You-" Edelgard snarled at the woman below her, "You- have no idea."

"Edie!" Dorothea pleaded as she ran through the door. "Stop it! You're killing her!"

With a growl, Edelgard tightened her grip on Mortis, throwing Hubert off with a twist of her shoulders as Mortis spasmed under Edelgard.

"Get Alois!" Hubert shouted as he climbed off Byleth. "Now!"

"Teach?" Yuri asked as Mortis went limp, her arms crumpling to the ground as Edelgard strangled her. "What the hell is going on?"

"Edelgard," Byleth pleaded as he grabbed at her, his arms wrapped against her midsection as he threw himself back, Edelgard landing square on his body. "You're better than this, please."

"Edie, what happened?" Dorothea asked as she rushed over, her eyes looking at the unconscious form of Mortis on the ground.

"We'll explain later," Hubert said as Edelgard's breathing returned to a mangled gasp. "Get Lady Edelgard to somewhere quiet, and send for a medic."

"Let's go," Byleth said as he stood, Edelgard in his arms. "There's a lot that we need to talk about."

Hubert nodded as the room emptied, the stunned Sylvain giving one final glance at the unconscious woman sprawled on the ground.

Hubert glanced at Mortis before he left, taking a moment to press two fingers against the flushed skin of her neck, sighing as he felt a frenzied heartbeat under the woman's skin.

"And to think I once admired you," Hubert muttered as he retracted his fingers, a look of disgust on his face as he left the room.

* * *

"Solon," Spite said as he approached the other man. "I've made my choice."

"And who are these two?" Solon asked, gesturing to Ashe and Ingrid.

"_Ransom,_" Spite replied. "_I'm leaving Gloucester with additional bargaining ability in exchange for the two of them back._"

"And how did you come into… possession of these two?" Solon asked.

"Last night, one of my patrols captured them," Spite said. "They appear to be scouts operating out of Fhirdiad."

"And why was I not informed of this?" Solon asked. "This is clearly very important information."

"You never asked," Spite replied. "From what I understand, you asked for my presence immediately upon arrival and for nothing else."

Solon grimaced at the words, "So be it. What are the squads you will take with you?"

"I'll be going with him," Aranea replied. "There's little I can do here."

"And what of your mission, Lady Pittacus?" Solon asked. "Have you found the documents required?"

"Agastya Periander kept his notes within Vault December within Shangri-la," Spite said. "Shelf four three six, middle row."

"Ahh," Solon said. "I had forgotten you were a librarian once."

"He was my direct predecessor," Spite nodded, "Upon his death, I personally made the trip to Shangri-la to place the notebooks there."

"I see," Solon said. "Very well, your mission is approved."

"Vito," Spite barked. "See to it that Lord Solon is aware of the soldiers who are here to harvest."

Vito saluted his superior in response.

"Let us depart then," Spite said. "Shouldn't be too far of a walk."

"Where are we going?" Ashe asked.

"Gloucester Country," Spite replied as Talos hurried up to the group.

"Are these all the harvested units?" Spite asked as Talos handed the man a burlap sack, the senior magister weighing the bag.

"Seventeen harvested units," Talos explained. "Nine came from- her."

"See to it that she is rewarded upon her return to Shambhala," Spite said. "Few of our men have the enthusiasm for this line of work, and those who do ought to be rewarded."

"What are you thinking?" Talos asked as Spite retrieved one of the black stones from the bag.

"With these times, it is certainly possible I may fall in the battlefield," Spite replied. "In such a circumstance, I will need to see if there is a potential replacement for the many roles I play in Shambhala."

Talos nodded as Spite crushed the black stone, "Safe travels."

"It's not a far trip," Spite said. "In fact, we passed it on our way over here."

Talos nodded as he stepped back, the rift cracking as it expanded.

"What is that?" Ashe asked as the portal widened, the shadowed stones of Zaharas becoming visible as the portal reached its full size.

"Welcome to Zaharas," Spite said. "Now, get in. The portal will only be open for a short while."

"Zaharas?" Ashe spluttered. "The place the Professor was sent?"

"Yes," Spite replied. "There's nothing in Zaharas except for the ghosts of the cursed dead."

"Ghosts?" Ashe asked, his face paling. "Is there any other way to get to Gloucester- that doesn't involve ghosts?"

Spite sighed, "Aranea, push him in."

"Indeed," Aranea growled as she shoved Ashe, the silver haired knight screaming as he fell through the portal.

Spite swore as he took a step back from the portal.

"Too late?" Aranea asked.

"Lost my concentration," Spite growled. "We'll have to open another one once this one collapses."

"Right," Aranea replied, seizing Ingrid. "No more theatrics this time. People are already starting to look at us strangely."

Spite nodded as the rift cracked, the portal faltering as the gate to Zaharas warped and collapsed.

"Lord Periander, Lady Pittacus!" a voice shouted from behind them.

"Talos," Spite greeted the men. "Olympia, Percival."

"We've come to see you off," Percival explained.

"There was no need for that," Spite replied. " Lord Solon is capable as I am in this task."

Percival and Vito exchanged a glance as Olympia nodded, "Best of wishes on your journey."

Spite nodded, "Right, we'll be going now."

* * *

Ashe whimpered as he climbed to his feet, glancing around the dimly lit room as he covered his shoulders.

"Right," Ashe laughed as the portal cracked and faded, the sunlight from Fodlan fading, leaving him alone with the green light of the realm of Zaharas. "You've got this Ashe, they'll be here in a minute."

"Who are you?" a voice asked.

"Ghost!" Ashe screamed. "I'm sorry! I don't taste good!"

"Ghost?" the voice asked. "What's that?"

"I'm sorry," Ashe said. "Lonato, Christophe, I'll be with you soon."

"What is Lonato?" the voice asked. "Christophe?"

Ashe swallowed as he turned to face the ghost, his face paling as he took a step back.

"No," Ashe pleaded. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have mentioned you to your brother!"

"I- I have a brother?" Kronya asked, her head turned to watch Ashe.

"I'm sorry!" Ashe begged as he turned, his legs faltering as he slammed into Ingrid.

"Ashe?" Ingrid spluttered as she almost fell back into the portal. "What's going on?"

"Her-" Ashe gasped, a trembling finger pointed to the shifting form of Kronya.

"Who?" Aranea asked as she stepped through the portal, her eyes hard as she found the ghostly form of Kronya. "No-"

"What's going on?" Spite asked as he stepped through the portal, the light to Fodlan fading behind him as the rift cracked. "What are you all looking at?"

"Addy-" Aranea whispered. "You need to see this."

Spite narrowed his eyes as he turned to Kronya, his features softening into stunned silence as he found Kronya.

"Who are you?" the revenant asked.

* * *

**AN:** Chapter 28 complete. As promised within the last chapter, all uses of the name Zaharas have been corrected.

Read, Review, Follow.

**Next Chapter:**

Aftermath- Byleth

The Army on the March- Sylvain

Malice at Gloucester- Lorenz

A Hero's Way- Claude

The Path of Demons- Spite


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29. The Burning of Gloucester. Part 2.

* * *

"Edelgard, are you alright?" Ferdinand asked as he approached the table.

"Ferdie," Dorothea interjected. "This isn't the time."

"No," Edelgard replied. "I- I'm alright."

Ferdinand nodded, "Mor-"

"Don't say that name," Edelgard growled.

"Right," Ferdinand replied. "Our prisoner is currently in the infirmary. She's yet to regain consciousness, but she's not in danger."

Edelgard grimaced as Byleth entered the room.

"Professor," Ferdinand said. "What is that map?"

"The Great Bridge of Myrddin," Byleth replied. "We'll be travelling there in two groups to negotiate an end to our current hostilities."

Ferdinand nodded, "What is this about two groups?"

Byleth grimaced, "I will go along with Edelgard as a sign of goodwill to the Count, but in the event that negotiations go poorly, we will require your assistance in pacifying any rebels we encounter."

Ferdinand nodded, "I- I see, should I pack right now?"

"We need to determine who goes with which group," Hubert explained. "There is also the problem of the army occupying Conand Tower."

"Conand Tower can be dealt with after we deal with Gloucester," Edelgard replied. "The tower is not a significant distance from the edge of Gloucester Country, and Count Galatea has made it clear that he has no desire to wage war against us."

"How do you believe we'll get to Gloucester territory?" Ferdinand asked.

"Indech has volunteered his services," Hubert replied. "He is able to navigate the Airmid river."

Ferdinand nodded, "Is there anything to do before we leave?"

Edelgard exchanged a glance with Byleth.

"We'll discuss the situation later," Byleth promised. "But we'll need some time alone."

* * *

"Hello Yurius," Lorenz said as he sat down before the cell, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the light of the dungeon.

"Lorenz," Yurius replied, his voice a faint rasp. "Why are you here?"

"Yurius," Lorenz said, swallowing as he continued. "I have a friend who I'm very close to. I need your help."

"What is it that you need with me?" Yurius asked.

"What is it that you know about House Ordelia?" Lorenz asked.

Yurius remained silent, his eyes lowered to the ground of his cell.

"You recognize the name," Lorenz concluded.

"I do," Yurius replied. "But, I have something I want to ask you."

"If you tell me about what you know of House Ordelia, I'll answer your question," Lorenz said.

"I'll ask my question before I answer your question," Yurius replied. "But know this, I have no intention of betraying my people."

Lorenz nodded, "What is your question then?"

"Where is Mortis?" Yurius asked.

Lorenz swallowed as he pressed his lips together.

"To answer your question," Yurius said. "I was never told anything important about House Ordelia, only that the generation above me subjugated them."

"Are you aware of what happened to the children of the House?" Lorenz asked.

Yurius sighed, "I- I was told pieces of what had happened, but not all of the details."

Lorenz nodded, "Would Mortis know more?"

Yurius hesitated as he pulled himself into the light, his features sullen as his hands used the bars of his cell to pull himself to his feet.

Lorenz grimaced as he looked away from the tortured man's face.

"Look into my eyes when you answer my question," Yurius ordered. "Where is Mortis?"

"She escaped," Lorenz said. "She massacred a squad of guards at the south end of Myrddin to break my father's blockade."

"And what else did she do?" Yurius snarled. "I don't believe there was only a single squad to guard a blockade."

"From what I was told, she burned down Myrddin's church and town hall."

Yurius scoffed, "That's what I was waiting for."

"What do you mean?" Lorenz asked.

"Mortis has a habit of setting fires to cause distractions," Yurius explained. "It's a tactic she inherited from her mentor."

Lorenz stood as he met Yurius eye to eye, "The Church at Myrddin was where the ashes of my ancestors were stored, all the way back to the first Gloucester."

"You are angry," Yurius observed.

"I am not," Lorenz replied. "But I have another question for you."

"And what is that?" Yurius asked.

"What did you intend to do with all of the stolen gold?" Lorenz asked. "And just where did you find it?"

"Lord Periander gave it to us," Yurius said. "He told us to spend it as we saw fit."

"You were a retired mer-" Lorenz said. "Unless that was a lie as well?"

"So you do understand," Yurius said. "No, we were never travelling mercenaries."

"Then what was it that you were doing?" Lorenz asked. "Were you smuggling the gold?"

"No," Yurius replied. "We were not smuggling gold. The gold was irrelevant to us."

"That gold should be from the imperial vaults in Enbarr," Lorenz said. "The Adrestian Empire took it from House Ordelia. How did you get your hands on it?"

"If I'm going to be honest, I have no idea," Yurius replied. "You would have to ask Lord Periander."

"And where is he now?" Lorenz asked.

"I don't know. You would have to ask Mortis."

* * *

"Kronya?" Spite whispered.

"Who are you?" the revenant repeated.

"Kronya!" Aranea snapped. "Do you not recognize us?"

"Kronya?" the revenant asked. "Who is that?"

"Addy, I don't think she recognizes us," Aranea said. "Thales must have damaged her."

"Thales?" Spite asked. "What does he have to do with anything?"

Aranea blinked as she took a step away from her brother.

"Aranea," Spite said, his tone frigid. "What did Thales do?"

"He blasted her," Aranea said. "He said that she had fulfilled her purpose, that she had outlived her usefulness."

Spite narrowed his eyes at the confession, a hiss of rage escaping his lips.

"Addy!" Aranea shouted as a pillar disgenerated, Spite panting as the remnants of his spell faded into the air of Zaharas.

"We go forward," Spite snarled. "We have a mission to do."

"Addy?" Aranea asked. "Are you sure?"

"As much as I hate Thales for this, my duties to Shambhala will come first," Spite responded. "When this war is over, I will find Thales and tear his eyes out."

"Just that?" Aranea asked.

"I suppose you are right," Spite said. "He won't be able to see what I do to him after."

"What are you discussing?" Ashe asked.

Spite growled as he turned to the younger man, "It is in your best interest to never find out. Now, turn around and start walking. We will not reach Gloucester Country by standing here."

* * *

"Do we have a list for the trip with Indech?" Hubert asked as he sat down in the chair across the table from Byleth and Edelgard.

Byleth shook his head at the question, "Apart from the three of us, I'm afraid that we have no list to speak of."

"Is there anyone we should exclude from this trip?" Hubert asked.

"Baron Dominic," Byleth said. "Alois as well."

"We can't trust the baron and we need Alois here," Hubert deduced. "May I suggest keeping Manuela and Hanneman here? They may be able to help Linhardt with his research."

Edelgard nodded, "Yes, he needs the help."

"Lady Edelgard- are you feeling well?" Hubert asked.

"Am I feeling well?" Edelgard asked. "I almost strangled our only lead to Adrasteia over a single word.

"Lady Edelgard-" Hubert started.

"Hubert," Edelgard replied. "Enough."

Hubert swallowed, "Let's go over the battle plans then."

Edelgard nodded as Indech stepped through the door.

"Indech," Byleth said. "How large is the boat you intend to use?"

"Pardon?" Indech asked. "What boat are you referring to?"

"How is it that you intend to get us down the Airmid River?" Hubert asked.

"I could simply swim there," Indech replied. "I could carry twelve of you to prove it."

Byleth exchanged a glance with Edelgard before he turned back to Indech, "Twelve is the limit of your boat, correct?"

Indech raised an eyebrow, "Yes, you can bring twelve with you."

Byleth nodded, "That'll help with our planning. Was there any other reason that you needed to speak to us?"

"Indeed," Indech said. "If possible, when this is all over, I would like to give our sister a decent burial. I cannot bear the thought of leaving her behind to rot."

Edelgard nodded, "That can be arraigned, but not now. We must end the threat of Thales first."

"Naturally," Indech replied, "I understand your concerns are much more immediate than burying our sister."

Byleth nodded as Indech stepped from the room.

"Now, we plan."

* * *

"Hey Mercedes," Dorothea said as she approached the older woman. "Is the infirmary busy right now?"

"Quite," Mercedes replied, a smile on her face. "Five beds are occupied."

"Five?" Dorothea asked. "Have we had that many injuries?"

Mercedes turned her head, her hand on her cheek, "It'll be better to show you, but I must ask you to be quiet."

Dorothea frowned, "There shouldn't be more than two injured."

Mercedes shook her head as she pressed a finger to her lips, "They're sleeping. They need the rest."

Dorothea nodded as she climbed the stairs behind Mercedes.

"Mercedes," Ferdinand said. "No change to report."

"Hey Ferdie," Dorothea replied. "What are you doing here?"

"Someone needs to watch over her," Ferdinand said. "You know why."

Dorothea grimaced as Mercedes pressed a finger to her lips, Dorothea's retort dying on her lips as Mercedes cracked the door open.

"Wow," Dorothea whispered. "Felix is cute when he's sleeping."

Mercedes smiled as she looked over at Felix sleeping alongside Annette, the sleeping swordsman's lips moving in a silent song.

"Is Gilbert going to be alright?" Dorothea asked as she turned her gaze to the next bed.

"He's been hurt badly, but he should recover soon," Mercedes replied, her voice soft.

Dorothea nodded as she glanced at Sylvain, "Why is he in here?"

"He was on guard," Ferdinand said. "Still, he fell asleep while he was watching over Mortis, and I helped him into bed."

"He's travelled a great deal," Mercedes replied. "He's earned his rest."

Dorothea nodded as she turned to Mortis, "Is she going to be alright?"

"Her life is not in danger, from what we can tell," Mercedes replied. "Still, we can't say when she'll wake up."

Dorothea stepped forward to the unconscious Mortis, tracing circles on the woman's palm.

"Did you heal her?" Dorothea asked as she turned back to Mercedes.

"I did," Mercedes replied. "Did I miss something?"

"You did well," Dorothea said. "You can't even tell she was… hurt."

Mercedes nodded as Dorothea turned back to the unconscious Agarthan, pulling a strand of hair away from her face, "I hope she can wake up before we leave."

"Is there something you wish to ask her?" Mercedes asked.

Dorothea turned back to Mortis, taking the unconscious woman's hand in her own, "I think she needs someone to talk to. She's not a monster like Kronya, and- maybe I could…"

"What makes you say that?" Ferdinand asked. "I understand that she hasn't been a threat to us yet, but none of us knew about Kronya until it was too late."

"Ferdie, have you ever been alone? Alone amongst strangers you never met before?"

"I- I suppose I haven't," Ferdinand admitted.

"Have you ever stood alone? With no idea who to trust?" Dorothea asked.

"Right," Ferdinand said as he backed away. "I understand."

"Now now, let's take this outside," Mercedes urged. "We don't want to wake Felix or Sylvain, do we?"

* * *

"I- I will lead the northern expeditionary force," Hubert said as he looked down at the list of names assembled.

Byleth nodded, "In that case, we will have nine spots left with Indech."

"We're bringing her," Edelgard said. "We'll drag Adrasteia's secrets from her lips."

"Eight then," Byleth corrected.

"Sylvain and Felix should come along as well," Hubert said. "They should be able to contact House Galatea for supporting forces in the event we are to besiege Conand Tower."

"Six," Byleth said.

"No Annette or Mercedes," Edelgard interjected. "Annette has been spending a great amount of time at her father's side, and I do not wish to disturb them."

Byleth nodded as he drew a line through the names of Annette and Mercedes.

"Jeritza?" Hubert suggested.

"No," Byleth and Edelgard said at once, the pair exchanging a glance before Byleth continued.

"If Jeritza was to become enraged, then I believe he will be unable to hold back his bloodlust," Byleth explained. "In the event that Gloucester is using civilian levies, I don't want a bloodbath."

Hubert nodded, "What of Seteth?"

"He would not leave without Flayn," Edelgard said. "Still, with Gloucester's piety, their presence may be helpful in convincing him to end the rebellion on peaceful terms."

"Four spots left then," Byleth said. "What of Balthus or Hilda?"

Edelgard closed her eyes, "Both of their territories are far off to the east. They'll be of little help navigating a path to Conand Tower after. The same would go for Marianne."

"Linhardt will be busy with his cure," Hubert said. "We will leave him to it."

"I believe we will need the Knights of Seiros to guard Garreg Mach while we are away," Edelgard said. "So no to Alois or Shamir then."

"We would need an archer," Hubert said. "Still, I loathe the idea of placing Bernadetta in danger."

"We have little choice," Edelgard said. "Unless you wish to bring along Petra?"

"Petra will do fine," Byleth said. "Still, I'm also not fond of the idea of leaving Bernadetta behind, lest she return to her… poor habits."

"So be it," Hubert said. "That brings us two spots on Indech's boat."

"What about Dorothea?" Byleth asked. "She seems to have formed a connection of sorts with Mortis."

Edelgard nodded, "A sound strategy. Perhaps she will reveal some information that will prove useful to us while her guard is down."

"What of Yuri?" Byleth asked.

"He will be needed to guard Garreg Mach from attack or infiltration," Hubert replied. "His connections will be unable to find him if he is on the move."

"Yes, but if he has criminal connections at Myrddin, perhaps he can get us an understanding of the situation on the ground," Byleth argued.

Hubert nodded, "Very well then. We have one last spot on the ship."

"What of Hapi or Constance?" Edelgard asked. "No, forget that."

"We would benefit from having Hapi scout enemy positions ahead of us," Byleth observed. "Still, with the likely garrison present at Myrddin, Hapi will be in great danger."

"Yes," Hubert said. "And that's not even counting Lady Constance's… problem."

"Despite the risk of bringing Hapi along, I believe her presence would be beneficial," Edelgard reasoned. "Her mount would allow us to scout ahead into Gloucester territory in the event that we are forced to defend ourselves."

Byleth nodded as he looked down the list, "I'll start from the top then, go for a confirmation before we commit."

"Very well," Hubert said.

"Myself, Edelgard, and Hubert," Byleth said. "We can agree we are all dealing with this issue together?"

"Indeed," Hubert replied. "Carry on."

"Mortis, our link to Shambhala and more importantly, Adrasteia," Byleth said.

Edelgard grimaced at the name of the woman she had almost strangled, but nodded regardless.

"Sylvain and Felix," Byleth said. "Our links to this hostile army at Conand Tower."

"Very well," Hubert said. "Next?"

"Seteth and Flayn," Byleth said. "No objections?"

"None," Edelgard said. "So long as they do not desire revenge for Rhea."

"Petra, Bernadetta, Dorothea, and Hapi," Byleth finished. "Twelve names for Indech."

Hubert nodded, "I'll inform them of our intentions to leave. Do we have a time Indech intends to set out?"

"I would have to assume it would be in the morning," Edelgard said. "It is not safe to sail a boat down the Airmid River at night."

* * *

"Mom?" Claude asked as he stood by the side of his ship, his hands over the railing as the ship hurried past the city of Derdriu. "Do you miss Fodlan when you're out in Almyra?"

Tiana von Riegan sighed as she joined her son at the port, her eyes watching the distant city she had been born in, "I suppose there are always questions that I'll never have answers to."

"What kind of questions are you thinking of?" Claude asked.

"When I was your age, I had a group in Derdriu, nothing serious," Tiana replied. "Whenever I think of Derdriu, I always ask myself what became of them."

"What kind of thing did they do with you anyways? The kind of stuff you did with dad?"

Tiana scoffed, "We used to get into scuffles in the ports. Never a shortage of idiots there that needed to be beaten."

"So, not with dad then?" Claude asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, we thought of ourselves as heroes. Exceptionally well paid and violent heroes, but heroes nonetheless."

"Lady Tiana?" a soldier asked. "Some of the men are getting flighty. They want to raid Derdriu."

"My answer is no," Tiana spat, turning to the man."But tell them that anyone who wishes to leave this ship before we land at our destination has two options."

"And these are?" the man asked, an eyebrow raised.

"They can jump," Tiana said, a grin spreading across her face. "Or they can wait for me to push them."

At the sight of Tiana's grin, the man turned, hurrying into the bowels of the ship as Tiana turned to her son.

"Mom, that grin of yours is scary," Claude declared.

"Yep, and that's why it works so well," Tiana replied, her grin growing wider. "Come, let us go over the plans again. I intend to drill them into your head before we get to Conand Beach."

Claude groaned, "Did you do that with dad too?"

"No," Tiana replied with a chuckle. "You inherited your scheming prowess from your father, not me."

* * *

"Father," Lorenz demanded as he entered his father's office, "You must treat Yurius better."

Count Gloucester turned his head as he clasped his hands together, his tea forgotten, "Well son, if he's willing to cooperate with us, I don't see a problem with moving him to a more comfortable room."

"You've tortured him," Lorenz said. "You've starved him."

"That's not true," Count Gloucester said. "I've tried to feed him, but he's refused to eat."

Lorenz grimaced at the words, "I demand he receives better treatment before we continue."

"Very well," Count Gloucester said. "But I wish to know what he has said to you about the stolen gold from House Ordelia."

"It's not his," Lorenz said. "I suspect he's a smuggler working on behalf of the Adrestian Empire."

"Oh?" Count Gloucester asked. "And what makes you say that?"

"He claims that the gold was merely a means to an end for him and his partner," Lorenz explained. "But with such a large amount of gold, especially with its connections to the Tragedy of Ordelia, I cannot help but suspect that he's smuggling the gold on behalf of someone."

"And who do you believe this someone is?" Count Gloucester asked his son.

"I cannot be sure that Yurius even knows who he is working for," Lorenz admitted. "Mortis, the woman we were travelling with seemed to be directly in charge of their entire operation."

"How very inconvenient," Count Gloucester said. "In simpler terms, the Teutates Herring escaped the net and left us with the Enbarr Carp."

Lorenz nodded, "Mortis always seemed… off."

"What do you mean by that?" Count Gloucester asked. "I'm not quite sure I understand."

"Mortis was secretive," Lorenz said. "I didn't wish to pry into her business, but she loathed the idea of people seeing inside of her trunk."

Count Gloucester nodded as he looked upon the destroyed trunk at the foot of his desk, "Allow me to interrupt you then."

"What is it?" Lorenz asked.

"Who do you believe Mortis is working for?" Count Gloucester asked.

"I-" Lorenz started, his lips tight as he closed his eyes.

"You have an idea in mind," Count Gloucester guessed.

"Hubert von Vestra," Lorenz admitted. "Mortis said that she had met him prior to meeting us."

"I know of von Vestra," Count Gloucester said. "As the Minister of the Imperial Household, I believe he would have motive to use the stolen gold for… nefarious purposes."

"I thought the same thing," Lorenz said. "But I have thought of another possibility."

"And who may that be?" Count Gloucester asked.

"Yuri Leclerc," Lorenz explained. "He's a criminal, and he's a good one. I wouldn't put it past him to steal such a large amount of gold."

"I have not heard of this… Yuri," Count Gloucester said. "I believe however, that you missed an important candidate."

"And who may that be, father?" Lorenz asked.

"The members of the Insurrection of the Seven," Count Gloucester replied. "The masters of the Adrestian Empire for a number of years before the ascension of Emperor Edelgard."

Lorenz narrowed his eyes, "But why would they?"

"The contents of their noble houses were destroyed in the aftermath of the Emperor's rise," Count Gloucester said. "But if one of them sought to hide the Ordelia treasure out of the new emperor's grasp…"

Lorenz swallowed, "I- I would have to think on that."

Count Gloucester nodded as he slid back into his chair, "And I'll see to it that Yurius is transferred from his cell."

"Thank you," Lorenz said as he stepped from the room. "I'll be going now."

Count Gloucester closed his eyes as his security chief stepped through the door.

"You heard me," Count Gloucester said. "Though you know what to add to his drink."

"Do you think it'll work?" the man asked as he crossed his arms.

"Torture hasn't, but the apothecary promised this dose will get him to speak the truth."

"What dosage are we looking at?" the man asked as he took a pastry from Count Gloucester's desk.

"Two drops in all food," Count Gloucester said. "One drop per cup of drink."

"Got it," the man said through the pastry. "Two drops in food, one drop in every cup."

* * *

"Is that a ghost?" Ashe asked as he pointed to a figure.

Aranea frowned as she lit an orb of fire in her hand, the orange flames flickering as the distant figure became clear.

"Addy! There's a whole horde of them coming!" Aranea shouted as she threw the orb of fire forward, the fire illuminating a dozen misshapen faces.

Spite swore as he glanced behind him, the lone, stumbling form of Kronya still following the party as Spite stalked forward, a powerful spell at his fingertips as he reached the front of their position.

"_Come!_" Spite shouted over the ghostly din. "_Allow me to grant you oblivion!_"

The powerful fire magic released from his hands disintegrating the first wave of the ghosts, the undead Agarthans shreeching as the flames devoured them.

"Take your friend and go," Aranea snarled as she turned to Ingrid.

"Pardon?" Ingrid asked.

"He's unconscious," Aranea observed. "Does he have a fear of ghosts or something?"

"Ah," Ingrid replied as she looked at the crumpled form of Ashe. "He does."

Aranea grimaced as she threw forth an explosion of dark magic, the violet flames devouring a pair of the dead as Ingrid dragged Ashe backward.

"Addy!" Aranea shouted. "How many of them are there?"

"I've lost count!" Spite shouted back, a torrent of flame escaping his hands as he staggered back, his face lined with rage. "We'll just have to kill every last one of them!"

"Could we go around?" Ingrid called over the din of battle.

"Too late for that!" Spite shouted back. "We have no choice but to fight our way out!"

"To your right!" Ingrid shouted as Spite obliterated another swarm of ghosts, the inhuman wisps screaming as they charged forward.

"What the hell?" Aranea spluttered as a pair of wraith hands seized her leg. "It's a flank!"

Spite growled as he spun to the side, an orb of fire launched into the crowd before him before an orb of darkness erased a pair of ghosts to his right.

"Addy!" Aranea shouted as a screaming vortex dragged a half dozen ghosts into their demise. "We need a barrier!"

Spite swore as he unleashed a torrent of flame, the horde breaking as the screaming wave caught fire.

"How wide do you need it?" Spite asked as he fell back.

"Give me time to cast Luna again," Aranea snarled. "So long as it keeps the ghosts away from us, it's fine."

Spite nodded as he waved his hand, a translucent barrier shielding the two sorcerers from the horde.

"Luna!" Aranea shouted as she cast the spell, the unmistakable pale orb disintegrating into a tear in reality, the rift widening as Aranea fed it her strength.

* * *

Ingrid forced herself to her feet as she left Ashe behind, her eyes on the sleeping form of Aranea, her head limp against Spite's chest, her body held in place by her brother's arms.

"She's fine," Spite said as he leaned against a pillar. "The last spell cost her whatever magic she had left."

"Will she be alright?" Ingrid asked as Spite dragged his sister to the side, covering the sleeping woman with his pale cloak.

"She'll live," Spite said. "Regardless, we're done moving for the day."

"Right," Ingrid mumbled as Spite pointed to a pouch.

"That pouch there contains some supplies we will need to make dinner tonight," Spite said. "Feel free to eat whatever is inside."

"Are you not hungry?" Ingrid asked.

"No," Spite responded. "Perhaps I will eat something later, but not now."

* * *

"Mercedes," Hubert said as he approached the infirmary door. "Has our patient awoken?"

Mercedes shook her head as she put a finger to her lips.

"My apologies," Hubert said as he turned to the door. "We expect to move to Myrddin by tomorrow morning."

"I see," Mercedes said. "Who is it that will come along with you?"

"You and Annette are both excused," Hubert said as he glanced around the infirmary. "That being said, Sylvain, Felix, Dorothea, and Mortis are all to come with us."

Mercedes frowned, "Are you certain?"

"The list has been made," Hubert said, nodding to Dorothea. "Has there been any change in our… patient?"

Dorothea shook her head, "If- if she doesn't wake up."

Hubert grimaced, "Then we've lost our only link to Adrasteia."

Sylvain yawned as he sat up from his bed, "Oh hey Dorothea-"

"Dorothea, be ready to leave early tomorrow morning," Hubert said. "We will be making our way to Myrddin."

"Hubert?" Sylvain asked. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to inform you that we are leaving Garreg Mach tomorrow," Hubert replied. "Be prepared to leave early tomorrow."

Sylvain nodded as he turned to Mortis, "Right, Dorothea, has she woken up yet?"

Dorothea shook her head, "She seems to be sleeping, but she hasn't said anything over the time I've been watching her."

Sylvain nodded, "Hubert, could I ask you a question?"

"What is it?" Hubert asked.

"What was it that set Edelgard off?" Sylvain asked. "I didn't hear what Mortis had called Edelgard."

"Good," Hubert replied. "You wouldn't need to know."

"Shouldn't we know?" Sylvain asked. "So we don't anger her in the future?"

"All you need to know is that it's a personal nickname for Lady Edelgard," Hubert snapped. "It is not my place to reveal it to you."

"Is it a nickname the Professor gave her?" Dorothea asked.

Hubert shook his head, "It is a name that was given to Lady Edelgard by her father, the late Emperor Ionius."

"That's odd," Dorothea said. "How did Mortis know about it then?"

"Adrasteia," Hubert replied. "It is the only logical answer."

"But why would he remember a detail like that?" Dorothea asked. "And how could he remember something so small? It's been over a decade since the coup."

"Both very good questions," Hubert said. "However, I do not have the answers for either."

Sylvain nodded as he climbed from the infirmary bed, "Hey Dorothea, I'll watch over Mortis. Get some rest."

Dorothea shook her head, "I'm not tired, and besides, I don't have anything better to do."

Hubert nodded, "I'll make my rounds and inform the other members of the expedition. I'll return later to see if Mortis has awakened."

"Alright then," Sylvain said as he turned to watch the sun set. "Take care, will ya?"

* * *

"Sylvain!" Dorothea hissed.

"Wha?" Sylvain asked, blinking out of his reviere. "What's going on?"

"She's waking up," Dorothea whispered, standing over the thrashing form of Mortis. "Get Mercedes."

"I'm already here," Mercedes said as she rushed in. "Give her room to breathe, she'll be frightened to wake up to you two standing over her."

"Right," Dorothea said as she took a step back. "Give her space."

Mercedes nodded as she rushed forward, peeling the heavy duvet from Mortis.

"Sylvain, get her some water," Dorothea ordered. "Now!"

"Right," Sylvain said as Mercedes pointed to a pitcher. "Is this going to be ok for her?"

"It'll do," Dorothea said as Mortis shot up, the Agarthan woman panting as her eyes adjusted to the dark.

"You're in safe hands," Mercedes said. "Don't worry, there's nothing to fear here."

"Where- where are we?" Mortis managed as she fell into a coughing fit, her hands reaching for her throat.

"Water," Dorothea ordered as she pushed a cup before Mortis, the Agarthan sorceress gagging at the sudden appearance of water.

"That's enough," Mercedes stated. "Give her a moment to breathe."

"What time is it?" Mortis asked as she looked around the room.

"The sun went down a little while ago," Dorothea said. "Dinner should be fairly soon."

"Very good," Hubert said as he entered the infirmary. "You have awoken."

"Hubert," Mortis replied. "To the point as ever."

"Have the others told you about our plans tomorrow?" Hubert asked.

"I- no, we haven't," Dorothea said. "She just woke up."

"I see," Hubert said. "Very well, then I will inform you about our plans to reach the Great Bridge of Myrddin tomorrow."

"I- I don't understand," Mortis said. "Myrddin is three days away."

"Saint Indech has graciously provided us with a form of transport down the Airmid River," Hubert explained. "You are one of twelve who will join us on this trip."

Mortis closed her eyes as she fell back into the bed, "Very well."

"Be ready to leave early tomorrow," Hubert said. "We have little time to waste."

"Alright Hubie," Dorothea said as Hubert turned to leave. "We won't be late."

"Are you hungry?" Sylvain asked as the scent of fresh bread wafted through the door Hubert closed.

Mortis nodded as she smelt the food, "I haven't eaten in a whole day."

Dorothea smiled, "Then why don't we go down to get you dinner?"

"May I eat here?" Mortis asked. "I- I'd rather not leave this room for the time being."

"Why do you want that?" Dorothea asked. "Are you worried?"

"From what I understand, I have no shortage of enemies in this town," Mortis replied. "I would feel safer in a place where I'm alone."

"Well then," Dorothea said, "I'm sure Sylvain won't mind bringing us a full dinner."

"Sure," Sylvain said. "Wait- why do I have to do it?"

"Because I'm going to help her clean herself up," Dorothea said. "And I'm not going to have you peek at us."

* * *

"Sylvain, what are you doing?" Byleth asked.

"Ah," Sylvain said as he turned to the professor. "Mortis said she wasn't comfortable eating with everyone else."

Byleth nodded as Edelgard turned to Sylvain, "Tell me, has she recovered?"

Sylvain grimaced, "I- I can't tell. There are no physical scars or bruises, but I can't tell you if her personality has changed."

"I see," Byleth said as he exchanged a glance with Edelgard, "If possible, are you willing to watch over her while we conduct this expedition?"

"Huh?" Sylvain asked. "Teach, why are you asking me?"

Byleth grimaced as Edelgard glanced at Hubert.

"Your brother's attempts to kill you are well documented," Hubert stated.

"And- what does that have to do with this?" Sylvain asked, taking a step backward.

"If there's anyone who knows what it feels like to be in close proximity with someone who tried to kill you, it's you," Hubert stated. "In the event you feel like a conversation with Mortis will end in violence, we will need you to intervene."

Sylvain swallowed, "Do- do you believe she knows about Miklan?"

Hubert fell silent as Byleth exchanged a glance with Edelgard.

"She knew the truth about Yuri's attempt on Bernadetta's life," Edelgard admitted. "Assume that she's fully aware of your past."

Sylvain nodded, "Alright teach, I'll do it… but you owe me for this."

Byleth nodded, "We owe you a debt for this."

Sylvain nodded as he turned around, "Alright then, I'll head off."

"Let me help you with the plates," Byleth said as he rose from his seat.

* * *

"Teach?" Sylvain asked.

"Is there something wrong?" Byleth asked.

"How- how much do you think she knows about Miklan?"

Byleth grimaced, "A great deal, but I don't believe she knows the full story."

"What makes you say that?" Sylvain asked.

"If you remember what she said about Edelgard and Bernadetta, both of those incidents were directly related to Adrasteia," Byleth explained. "In contrast, I doubt he's ever had an interaction with you or your brother."

"What was that about Yuri and Bernadetta?" Sylvain asked. "And just how was it related to Adrasteia?"

"Adrasteia hired Yuri through a third party to murder Bernadetta," Byleth explained. "Why, we aren't sure."

"He did what?" Sylvain asked, his face scrunched in disgust. "He was trying to kill Bernadetta?"

Byleth shook his head, "We can't say for sure why Adrasteia wanted Bernadetta dead, but Mortis knew that Yuri had been the assassin hired and the exact details of his failure, details that, by all means, only the people directly involved would know."

"So that's a- outlier then?" Sylvain asked.

"I believe so," Byleth said. "As for Edelgard and Ionius, Adrasteia was in the room when Edelgard was dragged off along with her siblings."

"Wait, what?" Sylvain asked, his face pale with horror. "He was in the room?"

"A trusted eyewitness placed him in the room when the children were taken away," Byleth said. "Hubert also can confirm that he was in Enbarr throughout 1174 and 1175."

Sylvain shook his head, "I- I see. Is that why Mortis knew that… nickname?"

Byleth nodded, "It would be the only logical conclusion. That being said, that means that it's unlikely that Adrasteia ever met you or your brother, or witnessed his… attacks on you."

"I see," Sylvain nodded. "I still need that favour though."

Byleth grimaced, "I don't like the idea of having you in that room with her, alone especially."

"Dorothea is with me, so I think we'll be fine," Sylvain said. "She seems determined to be friends with Mortis."

Byleth nodded, "We aren't sure about just exactly who Mortis is, or what role she plays in the Agarthan chain of command, but she knows too much to be a simple minion."

Sylvain nodded as he reached the door to the infirmary, "Well, thanks for the help with the plates."

Byleth nodded, "I'll see you tomorrow then, sleep well."

Sylvain paused as he saw Byleth off, "You too teach, you too."

* * *

"Dorothea," Sylvain said. "Is she dressed in your old uniform?"

"Astute observation," Dorothea replied. "Well done. Is that dinner I see?"

"It is," Sylvain replied with a grin. "Come on, let's eat."

"What are we having?" Dorothea asked. "And hurry up, lest we wake Annette."

"Why would that be a problem?" Mortis asked, her bare legs crossed under her.

"Have you heard her songs for food?" Dorothea asked.

"Tell me more," Mortis said, an amused smirk on her lips.

"Today's dinner is steak and then a cake that's yummy yum," Sylvain began, his voice off key as Mortis choked down the first bite of her dinner. "Now it's time to fill my tummy tummy tum."

Dorothea laughed as she glanced up, her face freezing as she saw the murderous face of Felix.

"Oh, this mountain of sweets, and treats that I long to eats," Sylvain continued, oblivious to the danger behind him. "Oh, stacks of steaks and cakes and crumbs and yums."

Mortis coughed, "Sylvain?"

"What?" Sylvain asked. "Did my lovely voice steal-"

Felix put a firm hand on Sylvain's shoulder as the red haired knight froze, his voice failing mid sentence.

"What did I say about singing?" Felix asked, his voice a frigid whisper into Sylvain's ear.

* * *

**AN**: Chapter 29 done!

Read, Review, Follow, yada yada.

**Next time: **Chapter 30!

Misunderstanding- Edelgard

First Strike- Claude

Cruel Lament- Spite

Moonshadow- Mortis

The Runner- Solon


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30. The Burning of Gloucester, Part 3.

* * *

"What are you singing?" Ingrid asked as she glanced up to Spite.

"Pardon?" Spite asked as he turned his gaze to her.

"Ah, I- I heard singing," Ingrid replied. "Sorry to bother you."

"Oh," Spite replied as he blinked. "I apologize if that disturbed you."

"No, it's alright," Ingrid said. "Though, if possible, might I ask you what you are singing?"

Spite turned down to Aranea for a moment, pushing away a lock of hair from his sister's face before he looked into the darkness of Zaharas.

"A dirge," Spite said after a moment of silence.

"A- dirge?" Ingrid asked.

"A song of mourning," Spite said.

"I see," Ingrid swallowed. "Who was it for?"

"I learnt the song for the funeral of my mother," Spite said. "But the original? It dates to what you call the War of Heroes."

"I- I see," Ingrid said. "I'm sorry for the loss of your mother."

Spite nodded as the two fell into silence.

"What language is the song in?" Ingrid asked. "I don't recognize it."

"Old Agarthan," Spite said. "Still, there is a version that you would recognize."

"Really?" Ingrid asked.

"There is," Spite explained. "The Agarthan version is the original, but it was translated by the original author to a language you would recognize."

"Does the song have a name?" Ingrid asked. "I- I might have heard of it."

"I doubt you have," Spite replied, "the song is named The Edge of Dawn."

* * *

"So, I heard from Hubert you took out Roderigo Midas," Dorothea said.

"Him?" Mortis asked as she looked up from her meal.

"That scumbag?" Felix asked, his face twisted in disgust. "He's like a worse version of Sylvain."

"What?" Sylvain protested. "Even I have standards!"

"I killed Midas, yes," Mortis said. "What about it?"

"Well, I want to thank you," Dorothea replied. "He-"

"I know," Mortis replied. "He tried to abduct you and a certain Ingrid Brandt Galatea. Spite was pleased."

"Wait, what did Adras-erm, Spite want with him?" Dorothea asked.

"It's quite alright to call him by his birth name," Mortis said. "I don't think he minds either way."

"Why did Adrasteia want him dead?" Dorothea asked.

"He had sent letters trying to marry Aranea," Mortis explained. "He claimed he knew her secret and was trying to blackmail her."

"Did he?" Dorothea asked.

"Even if he did, he took the secret with him to his grave," Mortis replied. "But to answer your question, no. I searched his office. Nothing there."

"This Adrasteia sounds like a better brother than what I had," Sylvain said. "Sounds like a saint compared to Miklan."

Mortis shrugged, "Aranea wasn't a particularly good sister to him, and I suppose, in the end, he spoilt Kronya rotten."

"I suggest you never mention Kronya before the Professor," Hubert said from the doorway. "Lady Edelgard may be less inclined to pry him off your throat."

"Hubie!" Dorothea exclaimed. "Come to join us for dinner?"

"No," Hubert explained. "Lady Edelgard and the Professor have retired for the night. If any of you wake up late, we will drag you out of bed. By your hair."

Dorothea grimaced as she waved her hand, "Alright then Hubie, we won't be late."

"Don't be," Hubert said. "And Mortis?"

"von Vestra," Mortis replied. "Do you still need help with mastering your stolen spells?"

Hubert turned his head, "No, but I suggest you cooperate with us in the coming days. It will be very painful for you if you don't."

Mortis scoffed, "We'll see when that time comes."

Hubert glared at the dark haired girl before he turned around, the door to the infirmary shutting behind him.

"Why wasn't Cornelia a good sister?" Dorothea asked when she turned back to Mortis.

"Apart from the murder or does the murder itself count?"

"Murder?" Felix asked.

"Aranea tried to murder Spite in 1174," Mortis explained. "Tried being the main word."

"She tried to kill her own brother?" Sylvain asked.

"She never got close to him." Mortis explained. "There were six of… us."

"You tried to kill Adrasteia?" Dorothea whispered, her attention rapt.

"No," Mortis replied. "If I had actually taken part in the attempt on his life, I wouldn't be here today."

"What happened?" Sylvain asked, his eyes hard.

"The other five locked Spite in a room and tried to kill him," Mortis explained. "He killed every last one of them."

"He killed five people?" Sylvain asked. "In a few minutes?"

"He killed four before they could even get the barricaded door open," Mortis replied. "He killed the last man before he could reveal who ordered the attack."

"But they told him, didn't they?"

"The last of the five, Thersites, was on his knees, begging for his life when they broke the door down," Mortis explained. "Spite snapped his neck in front of half of Shambhala."

"But why would he do that?" Felix asked.

"Had word of the real plot gotten out, Aranea would have been executed," Mortis explained. "And I most likely would have joined her."

"But- she tried to kill him," Felix muttered. "She tried to kill her own brother."

"Yes, and didn't your brother try to kill you?" Mortis asked Sylvain. "Multiple times I might add?"

Sylvain grimaced, "They- they thought he would get better."

Mortis sighed and shook her head, "That afternoon, Spite locked himself in a room with his sister, and they came to some form of agreement."

"Did she reveal you?" Dorothea asked.

Mortis snorted, "I suspect Spite already knew going in to that mission, but regardless... I revealed myself."

"What happened there?" Sylvain asked.

"I'd rather not talk about it," Mortis snarled, glaring at Sylvain. "The end result was that I was to never reveal that the conspiracy had been headed by Aranea, and in exchange, I would be apprenticed to Spite."

"Was he good?" Dorothea asked. "As a- master?"

"Mentor," Mortis corrected, "And yes, apart from faith magic, he was excellent."

"What was his problem with holy magic?" Annette asked.

"Spite could never use healing magic," Mortis explained. "He might have been one of the most powerful sorcerers in Shambhala, but he could never use any form of healing magic."

"That's… odd," Dorothea said. "I've never heard of anyone with no healing ability."

"I suspect it had something to deal with his childhood," Mortis said. "But then again, there are certain subjects that I've never approached with him."

"Mortis?" a voice asked from the door. "Are you in here?"

"Hello Maya," Mortis said from her position on her bed.

"Do you happen to have any cake left?" Maya asked. "Someone named Lysithea ate all the sweets and I'm still hungry."

"I- do," Mortis said as she looked down at the untouched cake on her plate. "Do you want what's left of mine?"

"Yes please!" Maya said as she rushed forward, a fork in hand and a gleam in her eye.

* * *

"I'm sorry, I've never heard of that before," Ingrid said.

Spite nodded, "Both versions of the song were hidden in vaults well away from Galatea territory, and I would be surprised if you had ever heard of the name before."

"I see," Ingrid said. "How did you learn the song?"

"I had memorized the song during my time in Enbarr," Spite replied. "I could write the song down, word for word, but I'm afraid I don't have a pen on me."

"Could you tell me more about the original author then?" Ingrid asked.

"And why are you curious about that?" Spite asked. "

"I- I want to know what drove him to make such a song," Ingrid said.

"Her," Spite corrected. "The original artist was a woman."

"Oh," Ingrid said. "I see."

"To answer your question, her name was Periander."

"Isn't that your name?" Ingrid asked, raising an eyebrow. "You said we could call you Lord Periander."

Spite shook his head, "She was a member of Shambhala's original Septet, and my name is a title derived from her position as one of Shambhala's first rulers."

"Oh," Ingrid said. "I see."

"Think of it as a counterpart to your ancestors, the Ten Elites" Spite said. "Though that none of the initial Septet had blood relatives who survived the war."

"That does make it easier to understand," Ingrid said.

"The first Periander composed the song when the first Solon took his own life," Spite explained. "They had... a close relationship."

"How- how did that happen?" Ingrid asked.

"The exact details are lost to history," Spite said. "Especially since Periander herself was murdered only a few short years later."

"How did that happen?" Ingrid asked.

"Two traitors strangled her during a power struggle," Spite explained. "They were promptly disposed of, but Periander was still dead, and nothing could be done at that time."

"That's... " Ingrid said. "Why was she murdered?"

"Cleobulus and Anacharsis wanted to sell the rest of Shambhala out to save their own skins," Periander said. "Since then, their names have been bywords for traitor and coward."

"Why are you explaining this to her?" Aranea asked. "It's not like she needs to know about the history of Cleobulus and Anacharsis."

"Oh," Spite said. "You're awake."

"Of course I am," Aranea said. "It happens when you have two people having a conversation right next to you."

Spite nodded, "Right, if neither of you have complaints, then we can get back to moving on."

"Ahh!" Ashe cried as he snapped awake, his eyes darting around the room. "Ghost!"

"I think he's able to go," Aranea observed.

"I agree," Spite said. "Let us go then."

* * *

"Can't sleep?" Sylvain asked as he stepped toward the window of the infirmary.

"No, I suppose not," Mortis replied as she nodded at the lump in her bed. "Not with Maya in my bed anyways."

Sylvain chuckled, "Felix is mumbling to Annette again, and I really can't sleep with his singing voice."

"Was there something you wanted to ask me?" Mortis asked.

"I- let's take a walk," Sylvain said. "We don't want to worry anyone else, do we?"

"No," Mortis replied as she moved to the door. "I suppose we don't."

Sylvain nodded as he opened the door, "Ladies first."

Mortis nodded as she stepped through the door, "Did you sneak out often as a child?"

Sylvain chuckled, "I- umm, yes."

"Shangri-la had few places to go past dark," Mortis said. "Still, I began volunteering for guard duty as soon as I was able."

"I- I see," Sylvain said. "I'd like to apologize for trying to look up your skirt all those years ago."

Mortis shrugged as she moved down the stairs, "Why is it that you chase women exactly?"

"I fall in love easily," Sylvain lied.

"Is that so?" Mortis asked. "I suppose we have to go back to lying to one another."

"Oh fine," Sylvain muttered. "I- I just want a distraction. None of my dates ever go anywhere."

"And why is that?" Mortis asked as she turned around, her eyes boring into his.

"Because everyone only wants my Crest," Sylvain snapped. "It's always the Crests."

"I see," Mortis replied as she turned at the end of the stairs.

"No you don't," Sylvain snapped. "Everyone wants me only for my Crest."

"Because of the Lance of Ruin?" Mortis guessed.

"You got my parents there," Sylvain spat. "The Lance of Ruin this, the Lance of Ruin that. If they weren't so obsessed with that thing, then maybe Miklan could have… turned out differently."

Mortis nodded, "Your father's… obsession was included in my briefing."

"You knew?" Sylvain asked. "If you knew already, then why did you ask me in the first place?"

"Our spies and scouts varied in both quality as well as quantity," Mortis replied. "Few Fhirdiad based nobles were willing to get on your father's bad side by openly gossiping about him."

"Fhirdiad- Cornelia?" Sylvain asked.

"Correct," Mortis replied. "Our information was most plentiful amongst the nobles of the Adrestian Empire, followed by the Leicester Alliance, with the Holy Kingdom being dead last."

"Why the Alliance?" Sylvain asked. "What made them so good for information?"

"There are no shortage of deals to be made amongst the bickering noble houses, and no shortage of people willing to collaborate or disprove the accounts of their peers," Mortis replied. "And that's not even mentioning how easy it was to bribe Eastern Church officials."

"Just who was behind all this?" Sylvain asked. "It sounds like you had a dedicated spymaster."

"Spite, or as you know him, Adrasteia," Mortis explained. "He was determined to ensure Kronya's safety before she infiltrated the academy, and compiled a list of almost every major student at Garreg Mach during your year."

"I see," Sylvain said as he stepped outside. "Did you ever meet my father?"

Mortis raised an eyebrow, "I did, in fact."

"When?" Sylvain asked. "Before the war?"

"Council of Fhirdiad," Mortis said. "He advocated for a rather… brutal death for you and your friends."

"I-" Sylvain said. "Heh, it sounds like for once he shut up about the Crest."

"He begged me to personally kill you if I were to encounter you in combat," Mortis said. "I was surprised, nothing in my briefing notes suggested he would do such a thing."

"And what did you say to that?" Sylvain asked.

"I didn't get to respond," Mortis said. "Dimitri ordered him to leave the meeting, said his personal vendetta was becoming a distraction."

Sylvain laughed, "I see, I'm glad to hear that."

Mortis shrugged, "I admit, I doubt he could even achieve even half of what he was threatening. He didn't seem all that skilled with a knife."

Sylvain shook his head, "I- I wonder what he's doing right now."

"He was recuperating in a cast the last I heard of him," Mortis said. "Count Galatea launched an attack against him."

Sylvain choked as he turned to Mortis, "Ingrid's dad?"

"I understand why," Mortis replied with a shrug. "He had threatened Ingrid standing in the same room as her father. It doesn't take a genius to figure out who had sabotaged his horse into crashing his carriage."

"Are you sure it was Ingrid's father?" Sylvain asked. "I- I'm not that sounds like the man I know."

"Naturally," Mortis said. "I stood by him when he tampered with the horse's feed. Still, he was rather shaky. He was much more used to caring for animals than harming them."

Sylvain raised an eyebrow, "I- I'm going to be very careful around Count Galatea from now on."

"And why is that?" Edelgard asked.

"Ah!" Sylvain yelped as he spun around. "You scared me there- wait, just why are you out here?"

"We took a nighttime walk to clear our thoughts," Byleth said. "And what of you?"

"It's kinda hard to sleep when Felix is singing," Sylvain offered. "I'm sorry, we'll head back."

Edelgard paused as she turned to Mortis, "I'm sorry I attacked you."

Mortis turned her gaze to Edelgard, "I apologize for provoking you. I- I hope we can move on, if that's possible."

"Did- did Adrasteia reveal anything about me?" Edelgard asked.

Mortis angled her head, "He told me that you were very close to your father,"

"I see," Edelgard said. "Did he ever mention any part of Enbarr?"

Mortis shook her head, "He said that the Imperial Palace was a fortress, but one that was rather difficult to escape from."

"Did he ever mention anything about me?" Byleth asked.

"He was fearful for Kronya's safety when he learned of her role in your father's death," Mortis said. "From what I learned from Cornelia, he almost marched through Zaharas to personally drag Kronya back to Shambhala."

"Why didn't he?" Byleth asked.

"Cornelia said that Solon and Thales were both there," Mortis said. "That the two of them wouldn't allow her to die at your hand."

"That's one way to put it," Sylvain said. "I hope you do know what happened then, right?"

"I'm very well aware of what happened," Mortis said with a grimace. "Leonie says a great deal when she drinks herself into a stupor."

Sylvain winced as Edelgard and Byleth exchanged a look.

"Does Adrasteia know the truth?" Edelgard asked.

"No," Mortis said, looking at her boots. "I wasn't able to tell him the truth when we last spoke."

A glint flickered in Byleth's eye as Edelgard yawned.

"We'll be going now," Byleth said as he moved to pass Mortis and Sylvain. "Don't be late for tomorrow morning."

* * *

"Boss, there's someone out there."

"Oh?" Solon asked as he turned his gaze to the young man who had barged into his tent. "What did you just say?"

"There's someone running around out there," the soldier managed. "I- I'm not sure if it's human."

"Macuil," Solon growled.

"No!" the man exclaimed. "It- it's human, but it doesn't seem like one of ours."

"Talos, Olympia!" Solon barked at the two lieutenants. "Take whatever men you can find and take care of this… problem."

"Right away," Talos said. "About Vito's... subordinate, should we bring her?"

Solon turned to the grinning woman, her hands crimson with the blood of another fallen soldier.

"No," Solon said. "She has more use here."

"Of course sir," Olympia said as he stood. "We'll hunt this bastard down."

"Right," Solon said as he pointed to the unfortunate man. "You- show them where you found this… thing."

* * *

"We're here," Spite said as he stepped through a large chamber, the walls flickering with green light.

"You sure Addy?" Aranea asked.

"I've stepped through this portal before," Spite said. "It takes us to a crossroads in the north of Gloucester County."

"Should I open the portal?" Aranea asked.

"Go ahead, but make sure these two go first."

"Why us?" Ashe asked.

"Do you want to be left alone in Zaharas?" Spite asked. "If you stay, you might run into some of those ghosts you fear so much."

"Ah," Ashe said, snapping to attention at the words of the Agarthan sorcerer. "Right, we'll do as you say."

"Good," Spite said. "Cheer up, you might see some of your friends soon."

Ingrid exchanged a glance with Ashe as the group moved forward.

"Well, this is it," Aranea said. "Get ready."

"Are you opening a portal again?" Ingrid asked.

"Not quite," Cornelia said. "I would advise you to hold back the screaming. We wouldn't want to wake the locals."

"What do you mean by-" Ashe asked, freezing as a dark mist surrounded the group. "What- what are you doing?"

"This is the only way we can ensure that the two of you don't do anything foolish when we are busy with the ritual," Spite explained, his frame covered in shadow. "But do not worry, the darkness is harmless."

Ashe whimpered as the ghostly tendril squeezed him tight as the darkness enveloped them.

* * *

"Mortis?" Sylvain asked as they stood, watching the peaceful Airmid river before them.

"Is something wrong?" Mortis asked as she turned to face Sylvain. "You sound like you have something on your mind."

"I- can Agarthans bear Crests?"

Mortis shook her head, "We are fundamentally incapable of bearing the blood of the Fell Star."

"Fell Star?" Sylvain asked.

"Your goddess," Mortis clarified. "Sothis, I believe you call her."

Sylvain stared at Mortis, "You mean Seiros?"

"No," Mortis said with a roll of her eyes, "Seiros was the Immaculate One, who you slew in Fhirdiad. Sothis created Seiros."

"Wow," Sylvain said. "With whom? Was he good looking?"

"She had the power to create life on her own," Mortis scoffed. "Just as magic can be used to animate a golem, she had the power to create a living being."

"I mean, I'm not sure she was super good with that," Sylvain said. "There was this Chalice of Beginnings-"

"Which had the power to allegedly bring back the dead," Mortis said. "Yes, I'm aware."

"It doesn't work," Sylvain said. "Ashe told me how it turned Aelfric into an abomination."

"That's the replica," Mortis said with a roll of her eyes. "It's designed to fail."

"I don't understand," Sylvain said. "Why would you intend for something to fail?"

"So it takes your enemies with it when it fails," Mortis said. "The original was stolen from the ruins of Zanado, and the one you hold now is a trap meant for the Four Apostles."

"What do you mean by that?" Hubert asked as he approached the pair. "The Chalice of Beginnings in our possession is a replica?"

"Correct," Mortis said. "The true Chalice of Beginnings was stolen by the first Myson. The false Chalice spawns a powerful abomination upon being used."

"Ah," Hubert said, a hand on his chin. "So when the Four Apostles were at their weakest after the ritual, a monster would be spawned amongst them. A cunning trick to kill four enemies with one stone."

"You catch on quickly," Mortis observed. "Good."

"It failed," Hubert said. "Rhea- Seiros was on hand to witness the first attempt."

"A pity," Mortis replied with a shrug. "We would have been done with those pests if the attempt succeeded."

Hubert nodded, "That you would have."

"Hubert?" Bernadetta asked. "We should be done for the night- oh."

"I was just saying my goodbyes," Hubert said as he turned back to glare at Mortis. "Now, if you will pardon me."

* * *

"We have the target's visual," Talos murmured. "Olympia, have your squad flank the bastard."

"Is that an arm?" a soldier whispered. "That thing is eating an arm!"

"Quiet," Talos barked. "It'll hear us."

"Too late for that," Olympia hissed as he glared at the monster's fleeing form. "It's running."

"Do not follow," Talos snapped, all pretenses of stealth forgotten. "We'll hunt it as a pack. No telling what kind of dangers might be lurking in the bush."

"What was it that it dropped?" a soldier asked. "It looks like- oh shit."

"What's the matter?" Talos asked as he moved his gaze to the object the monster had dropped.

"That- that's an arm," the soldier whispered. "That thing's a cannibal."

Talos growled as he turned to the item on the ground, his face filled with disgust. "Alright, let's kill this bastard before he eats anyone else."

"Right away sir," the soldier muttered. "Just like you said, a pack."

"And here I thought Spite was being figurative when he said corpse eating," Olympia muttered as he hurried into the bush.

* * *

"Should we wake them?" Dorothea asked as she glanced at Mortis asleep against Sylvain.

"It's not daybreak yet," Indech replied. "And not all of your friends have arrived yet."

"Still, I didn't think she would get so close to… Sylvain," Dorothea observed. "So very unexpected."

"Well then, if you don't mind, I'll be in the water."

"Water?" Dorothea asked as Indech tossed away his robes. "What are you doing?"

Indech didn't reply as he leapt into the water, his body shifting as he landed, the human form disappearing as Indech grew into a large turtle.

"Wow," Dorothea said. "I- I didn't expect that."

Indech chuckled, "I suppose I must ask you to step lightly when climbing aboard."

"I see," Dorothea said. "Would you mind if I did so?"

"Please go ahead," Indech said. "I'd rather not have twelve of you try to climb onto my back at once."

* * *

"Lady Galatea," Spite said. "You seem amazed by something, may I ask what it is?"

Ingrid blinked as the question as she tore her gaze from the wheat fields around her to face the Agarthan Sorcerer, "Sorry, I- I've never seen so much food in my life."

"This wheat has yet to grow entirely," Spite said as he glanced at Aranea sleeping against a tree. "It will take a considerable amount of time before it can be harvested and turned into flour."

"Right," Ingrid said. "I- Galatea County is rather poor when it comes to crop yields."

Spite nodded, "Has the Church ever assisted you in this endeavor? There are certain means to increase the output of a land, should a lord have the knowledge to do so."

"Ah," Ingrid said. "We- we don't ask for charity. It's rather embarrassing to do so."

"Lord- Spite?" Ashe asked. "May I ask you a question?"

"Spite is fine," the sorcerer replied. "I'm hardly much of a lord anyways."

"Why is it that you know so much about crop yields?" Ashe asked.

"My mentor taught me," Spite said. "The previous Periander, whose title I inherited upon his death. He taught me a great number of things."

"I see," Ashe said. "We- we didn't learn that much about crops in the academy."

"Lord Ubert," Spite said. "Might I ask you something in turn?"

"Yes?" Ashe asked.

"From what little I know of you, I was told that you were an orphan from a young age. Is that true?"

"I-" Ashe started. "Yes, I was an orphan, but I still took care of my siblings."

"Through theft," Spite said.

Ashe grimaced, "Yes, but I only stole to feed my siblings."

"I was not passing judgement," Spite replied. "Had I been in your situation, I would have done the same."

"Are- are you an orphan?" Ingrid asked. "You told me about your mother-"

"I am," Spite confirmed. "Still, I shed no tears for my mother. She wasn't worth the effort. As for my father, he was killed in action against a certain Jeralt Eisner shortly after I was born. I cannot say I have ever known him."

"Is that why Kronya was sent after him?" Ingrid asked. "To get revenge for your father?"

"No," Spite said. "Kronya and I share different fathers. To my knowledge, he is still alive."

"Did you sing for Kronya?" Ingrid asked. "The dirge you mentioned."

"The Edge of Dawn?" Spite asked. "Yes, but on my own terms, away from prying eyes."

"What is this dirge you mentioned?" Ashe asked.

"The Edge of Dawn is an old dirge that dates to the War of Heroes," Spite said. "I was forced to learn it as a young man."

"The Edge of Dawn?" Ashe asked. "That's a song?"

"What did you think it meant?" Spite scoffed.

"The sun is rising," Ashe said, pointing to the horizon. "I thought you meant that dawn."

Spite frowned as the first rays of the sun illuminated his face, as if to prove Ashe's point.

"Ah, that's what you meant," Spite said as he turned to watch the sunrise. "No, that sunrise is not what I meant."

* * *

"Seteth, is that Indech?" Byleth asked as he gawked at the large turtle at the head of the Airmid River.

"Ah," Seteth said. "You've seen my brother's other form, please do not be frightened."

"So, we just climb on?" Sylvain asked.

"One at a time, if you don't mind," Seteth said, nodding to his brother.

"How long should it take?" Byleth asked.

"Not long," Indech said. "We should reach your bridge by sunset."

Byleth nodded as he turned to Edelgard, "Do you want to go first?"

Edelgard frowned as she nodded, "If possible, I'd like you to sit behind me."

"That can be arranged," Byleth said as Edelgard crossed over to Indech, their hands held as Edelgard sat in the middle of Indech's shell.

* * *

"Is that?"

"Silence," Talos said. "I recognize the poor bastard. He's one of ours."

"Damn," another man muttered. "Next time Vito gets a special assignment, I'm going to tell him to shove it where the sun doesn't shine."

A nervous chuckle followed the man's outburst as the group advanced through the bush.

"Body hasn't begun to rot," Talos observed. "He hasn't been dead long."

"What does that mean?" a soldier asked.

"They must have survived the initial attack by Macuil," Talos said. "But certainly didn't last all that long."

"Who killed them then?" Olympia asked. "I doubt a savage could take on a group of Shambhala's elite."

"Not Macuil," Talos said. "His forces wouldn't have torn our man into pieces."

"Whatever it is, it's basically feral," Olympia said. "Whatever we find, we kill it."

"Right," Talos said. "You heard the man, whatever we find, we kill."

"Right," a soldier muttered. "Let's kill this bastard and then we scam. I'm going to drink myself stupid once we get back to Shambhala."

"But first we need to hunt this feral thing down," Talos said. "And then find a corpse eater to extract this bastard's heart."

* * *

"Hey Mom, are we close?" Claude asked.

"We should be," Tiana said as she brushed her hair back, her eyes watching the sea below. "Prepared to lead a bunch of kids into sacking an empty fort?"

Claude sighed, "Something tells me that they're going to just goof off."

"You have my guards to ensure that doesn't happen," Tiana said. "And the marines aboard this ship."

"Why is it that you need so many guards anyways?" Claude asked. "Is dad that worried about you?"

Tiana snorted as she leaned against the railing of the ship, "They're here to make sure I don't get carried away."

"And?" Claude asked. "They're here to hold you back from fighting?"

"A year before you were born, there was a certain… incident," Tiana said, watching her son as she spoke. "Afterward, your dear father got tired of his vizier demanding I be punished, and pushed a bodyguard unit onto me."

"So they're here to back you up if someone raises a stink," Claude concluded. "I see."

"If I do get into a scarp, they do get to unwind," Tiana said. "Plus, they get to see Fodlan, so that's a bonus."

"Is guarding the palace really that boring?"

"Your father is a little too good at his work," Tiana replied with a shrug. "The only time I get excited is when he gets his rope out."

"Mom, please," Claude pleaded. "Too much information."

Tiana chuckled, "So dear son, have you found a spouse yet?"

"Nope," Claude declared. "Nope, never talking about this again."

"Lady Tiana?"

"What is it?" Tiana asked the soldier who had interrupted them.

"The wind has died down, and our crews need rest."

"So be it," Tiana replied. "Give them enough time to eat, but we won't stop any more until we reach Conand."

"Understood," the soldier said as he hurried away.

* * *

"There's the bastard," Talos said. "You, pick him off from a distance."

"Are you sure?" the archer asked. "What if he notices me?"

"Then don't miss," Talos shot back. "Olympia, do you have archers on hand?"

The other squad leader shook his head, "We have a few magi, but aiming at this range will be difficult."

Talos nodded as he turned to the archer, "You, cover our advance. We'll send this bastard to hell."

"Right," the soldier muttered as he raised his bow, taking a knee as the handful of magi darted forward.

"Stand down," Talos hissed as he waved at the archer behind him.

"Ready?" a junior mage asked as a ball of fire flickered in his hand.

"Fire!" Talos shouted as the mage corps attacked, a half dozen elemental attacks screaming toward their target.

Their victim screeched at the assault, the man staggering back as the first wave of magic cracked the cannibal's armour.

"It's not dead," Talos muttered. "Again! Repeat your attack!"

The monster screamed in response.

"Is it trying to say something?" a mage asked.

"Just keep firing," Talos growled. "I want that thing to be a butchered mess before any of us even get close."

"But-" the soldier started. "What if that thing is trying to say something?"

"Keep. Firing." Talos snapped as he unleashed a more powerful spell, the magic searing the flesh of the staggering cannibal.

"It's trying to run," a soldier observed.

"It's not going to get away from us," Talos snapped as he turned to the soldier. "Mark my words."

"Uhh, boss?" the man asked.

"What is it?" Talos barked.

"It's- gone," the man said, pointing at the spot where the man had last stood.

"They're right," Olympia said as he moved to the last location of the feral man. "There's a cliff here. Steep drop too. Bastard is dead and gone."

"Lovely," Talos said as he hurried forward. "That's interesting. Didn't realize there was a cove here."

"Are we done though?" a soldier asked. "That thing screaming gave me the creeps."

"We're done here," Talos said. "Come, let us return to camp."

* * *

"Addy, can I take you aside for a moment?" Aranea asked as she glared at the two figures before her. "There's something I need to discuss with you."

"Is something the matter?" Spite asked as he gestured for Ashe and Ingrid to stop, a single eye watching the pair as Aranea stepped closer.

"_There's a chance they're both dead,_" Aranea said. "_We didn't receive any message from Mortis in the time after you left, and it's possible Yurius is already dead._"

Spite nodded, "_I see, clearly I can't even trust you to tell the truth._"

"_Addy, I did it to protect you from yourself,_" Aranea growled. "_You were going to get yourself killed at that rate._"

"_I've always served Shambhala,_" Spite replied. "_Without question or complaint. Even when I should have spoken up. I would never have betrayed our people._"

"_Yes, and your hatred of Solon would have driven you into the cold embrace of death,_" Aranea shot back, "_We need Solon and Thales to end this war on our terms… but after? Certainly not._"

"_Aranea, I want to ask you something,_" Spite said as he resumed his walk, his pace brisk as he turned to Ashe and Ingrid.

"_And what is that, dear brother?_"

"_Did you tell Mortis?_"

"_No,_" Aranea replied. "_She didn't like talking about the dead. You know why._"

"_I see,_" Spite said, pausing as he reached a post. "_No, I don't. I didn't have every one of my friends butchered before my eyes._"

"_Yes, because you never had a friend that wasn't me,_" Aranea scoffed. "_It's ironic." _

"_What is?_" Spite asked.

"_The first Periander was a woman,_" Aranea said, watching the flash of warning in her brother's eye. "_And yet whenever I think of that song, I always think of you._"

"_There are times to talk about funeral dirges,_" Spite hissed. "_And now is not one of those times._"

"_But you still wear a mask over that black heart of yours,_" Aranea argued. "_And yet, despite all you have done, you are always in the cold._"

"Sorry to interject," Ashe said. "There's people coming this way."

"We'll finish this later," Spite snarled as he turned to Ashe. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"They're wearing the colours of Gloucester," Ashe said. "And they seem to be looking for something."

* * *

"Come on now Khalid," Tiana said, grabbing her son's shoulder.

"Mom?" Claude asked as his mother pushed a beautiful bow into his hands.

"War awaits," Tiana said as she jogged from their quarters. "We're making landfall. You'll be instructing the brats."

"Right," Claude said as he hurried after his mother. "We are the first wave then?"

"Just a precaution, Prince Khalid," the captain of the ship said. "There may be poachers in these woods, and we don't want one of the kids to run into a trap."

Claude nodded, "How many landing boats are there?"

"You and I will be on the first boat," Tiana said. "We'll light a torch once we've scouted the area."

"Safe travels, Shahbanu Tiana, Crown Prince Khalid," the captain said.

Tiana punched the man's shoulder in response, "Safe in these trips is boring. A wild boar or two make for excellent marksmanship training."

"And cooking training," the captain said with a smirk.

"And for the last time, don't call me Shahbanu. Even Reza doesn't call me that.""

"Does dad find it weird how much you crave food sometimes?" Claude asked his mother.

"It has been too long since I've sunk my teeth into a wild hog," Tiana scoffed as she climbed into the rowboat, two marines nodding at Tiana as she sat down.

"Come along now, Prince Khalid," the ship's captain said. "Glory awaits you."

"Right, right," Claude said as he climbed after his mother, taking a moment to grab onto a large oar before the boat sank into the water.

"On my mark," Tiana called as the boat settled into the water. "Go!"

Claude grimaced as he pulled the oar toward his chest, his arms straining against the heavy wood.

"It's only a few strokes," the soldier next to him laughed. "You'll get used to it."

* * *

"We have land!" the soldier shouted as the boat stopped with a shudder.

"Darius, do you see anything?" Tiana asked as Claude took deep, laboured breaths.

"Few strokes my ass," Claude grumbled as he climbed after the advance party.

"There's a carcass on the beach," the marine replied. "Probably an old goat that fell off the cliff."

"So be it," Tiana barked as she climbed from the boat. "Secure a perimeter!"

"Lady Tiana, the second wave is coming." the other marine barked.

"Good," Tiana said. "We'll move deeper inland. With luck, we can secure Conand Tower by nightfall."

"Right," Claude said. "Huh, never been this far north."

"Not much up here to see," Darius observed.

"Who even is responsible for this fort anyways?" Tiana asked her son as she moved along the beach.

"Dunno," Claude said. "When I was at the academy, some bandit lord even managed to capture the fortress."

Tiana scoffed, "The knights of Faerghus have really declined in quality."

"An army marches on its stomach," Darius scoffed. "And last I heard, the closest noble house from here was one bad harvest away from starving."

"That's House Galatea for you," Tiana chukled. "Still, Daphnel territory was never known for production of food."

"Boss?" the other marine asked. "You need to take a look at this."

"What is it?" Tiana asked. "You sound worried."

"This thing-" the soldier said, his finger pointed at the dead animal at the edge of the beach. "It's human."

* * *

**AN: **Chapter 30 complete. Read, Review, whatnot.

**AN2: **I'll be collecting short story ideas for after the main story is over. Feel free to suggest (SFW!) ideas in reviews.

**Current plans include:**

Byleth and Edelgard's wedding (Story arc for after Thales has been murdered)- Comedy.

Bonfire for the Nabateans (Also after Thales gets whacked)- Serious.

Edelgard gorges herself on sweets (Post Thales)- Comedy.

The Emperor's Speech (Post Thales)- Serious.

Place suggestions within reviews!

**Next Time:**

Gloucester actually burns- Spite

Motion sickness- Mortis

Arrow to the knee- Claude

A surprise visit- Chilon

Fateful Choice- Lorenz

**P.S.** When Spite mentions ghosts to Ashe, feel free to imagine him saying it in Claude's voice (See Claude-Lysithea B support).


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31: The burning of Gloucester part 4.

**Answering reviews:**

Review 1: **Guest Review.**

Due to Almyra having a similar culture to various Persian Empires (and Nader sharing a name with Nader Shah), I'm giving Almyrans with Persian titles and names, though I concede that Claude's real name (Khalid) is Arabic.

* * *

"So what do we do?" Ashe asked as the pack of Gloucester soldiers moved forward, their weapons pointed at Spite as the sorcerer approached the patrol.

Spite said nothing, his eyes watching the five men before him before turning his gaze to the road around them.

"There's not going to be any help for ya," one of the soldiers called out. "You'll have to deal with us."

Spite exchanged a glance with Aranea before he turned back to the patrol, "And what if I say no?"

"You won't," the soldier promised. "Now, empty your pockets."

"No," Spite replied, a smirk on his lips.

"What did you say old man?"

"I said no," Spite replied. "I will not empty my pockets for curs like you."

"You a merchant?" one of the men asked with a laugh. "I like merchants. Lots of gold. I like pretty women too."

"Addy, do we need them alive?" Aranea asked.

"We don't," Spite replied. "Still, if we can get information out of them, it might be useful later on."

"I don't like the way you are talking," the first soldier said. "You have a big mouth, and I'm going to shut it."

"Addy, can I have that one?" Aranea asked. "I'll leave the other four to you."

"Pity," Spite said. "I was hoping that I would be the one to kill him."

"That's it!" a soldier shouted. "I'm going to shut you up!"

"No," Aranea chukled. "I think you don't understand what you're in for."

The man roared as he charged forward, a sword held high as Aranea replied with a wave of fire, the magic flickering as it seeped through the soldier's open joints, the flame disappearing through the armour as the attacking soldier staggered, his arms flailing as the flames flickered and enveloped his flesh within the metal prison of his armour.

"Now, dear brother, I know I promised to let you have the others, but would you be so kind as to let me have one more?" Aranea asked as the soldier crumpled to the ground. .

"That depends," Spite said as he turned to the four remaining soldiers, their eyes still stunned as they watched the man on the ground flail in agony. "Are the four of you willing to step aside, or must we slaughter you where you stand?"

"We'll do whatever you want!" one of the men begged. "Please, just don't hurt us."

"Coward," one of the other soldiers whispered as he charged forward. "Coward!"

Spite took a step back as Aranea stalked forward, a glint in her eye as a wave of dark magic rushed the attacking soldier, the man gasping as the darkness invaded his body, his movements spastic as he staggered.

"Aranea, you might want to-"

The dark magic exploded as the man died, a flash of light erupting from the dying man's eyes as the magic left his ravaged corpse to crumple to its knees.

"How boring," Aranea said, planting a blood-splattered boot in the chest of the corpse. "How very disappointing."

Spite grimaced as Aranea kicked the corpse back, the dead man sprawling onto the dirt road as Spite turned to the three surviving soldiers, hands over their heads in surrender.

"I have questions," Spite said. "Answer them and I will spare your lives."

"Anything you want!" the first soldier exclaimed. "Just don't kill us!"

Spite nodded as he turned to Aranea's second victim, taking a moment to admire his sister's handiwork. "You three are wearing different armour compared to these two."

"We're militia!" the second man cried. "Please! We have families!"

"And I want nothing less than for the three of you to return to them," Spite said. "But there lies a problem. I would like it for the three of you to show us where the seat of Count Gloucester is."

"Wha?"

"You heard me," Spite said. "I have business with your Count. Show me to him and all is forgiven."

The men flinched as they stood up.

"No weapons," Spite said. "I don't wish for a knife in my back when I'm not looking."

The men nodded as they kept their hands visible.

"Take those spears and toss them into a field," Spite ordered. "You can collect them after my business with Gloucester is done."

* * *

"Perhaps we brought too many of us," Ferdinand observed as he stood against a bony spine on Indech's back, watching the Airmid river go by. "It is rather difficult to move around."

"Ferdie?" Dorothea asked.

"Yes, Dorothea?" Ferdinand asked.

"Shut up please," Dorothea said. "You're lucky Mortis was standing in front of you when that wave hit us."

Mortis sneezed as she gave Ferdinand a dirty look.

"Still," Dorothea said. "The heat of the sun means that our clothes should dry soon."

"Am I allowed to sit down now?" Sylvain asked from the back of Indech. "I'm worried I might fall off at this rate."

"No," Seteth said, his cloak draped around a shivering Flayn. "You may not turn around."

"We brought too many people," Byleth whispered to Edelgard. "Are you well? You look pale."

Edelgard grimaced, "Why did I agree to leave in a full suit of armour?"

"Lady Edelgard," Hubert chided, "We need you to remind Count Gloucester the full price of his actions. And the armour will provide protection in the event he attempts to assassinate you."

Edelgard nodded, "Still, I am pleased that the armoury was able to modify this suit so quickly, I would have fallen into the river if I was still wearing those murder contraptions."

"Chatterbox, can you ask Frostbite something?" Hapi asked.

"Is something wrong?" Byleth asked as he turned to Hapi. "Did you remember something?"

"Was I called?" Mortis asked, turning to face Byleth and Hapi.

"Do you know where Anselma is?" Hapi asked.

Mortis blinked as she turned to Edelgard, "Anselma was sent to Shangri-la after Duscar to treat her injuries."

"Injuries?" Edelgard asked. "I thought you said that she wasn't targeted by Adrasteia's forces."

"She wasn't," Mortis explained. "She was diagnosed with motion sickness as a result of the extensive maneuvering of the carriage she had been in. As I understand it, she has remained within Shangri-la since."

"And where is this Shangri-la?" Hubert asked.

"I couldn't tell you," Mortis said. "I've never been given an exact location myself."

"And how did you get to and from there?" Hubert asked.

"Zaharas," Mortis explained. "There is an entrance to Shangri-la within Zaharas."

"And what is it that you need to enter Zaharas?" Hubert asked.

"I think we both know the answer to that," Mortis snapped. "A Agarthan heart, combined with the correct ritual, will open a rift to Zaharas."

"And you know this ritual?" Hubert demanded.

"I do," Mortis said. "Still, there are few places on Fodlan where this ritual can be conducted."

"We shall see," Hubert said. "We shall see."

* * *

Tiana grimaced as she glanced at the dead man, her arms crossed against her midsection.

"Shah- erm, Lady Tiana, what are your orders?"

"Darius," Tiana acknowledged the man. "See to it that the marines aboard our vessel are fielded. This man may have died from a fall, but his body bears a number of magical wounds that are most certainly not natural."

Darius nodded, "As you command. What of the children?"

"They don't need to see this," Tiana said. "Not yet. Have the body destroyed before they come ashore."

Darius nodded as Claude crouched down, "Hey mom, do you recognize the icon?"

"Icon?" Tiana asked, looking down at the corpse. "I don't see- wait. That eye?"

"I- I might have seen it before," Claude said. "Still, I'm not sure when or where."

Tiana nodded as she leaned close to the dead man, "I've never seen this icon, but we'll make note of it before we destroy the body."

"Who do you think killed him?" Claude asked.

"Not some poachers for sure," Tiana said. "Come, we'll set up a perimeter in the forest."

"How familiar are you with this forest anyways?" Claude asked.

"When I attended the Officer's Academy, I was sent on a month-long trip here," Tiana replied. "It was hot, miserable, and Jeralt was too strict on us."

"You knew Jeralt?" Claude asked.

"Didn't like him much," Tiana said. "I could never talk to your father when he was around, and he was around far more than I liked."

"I- see," Claude said.

"Still, this was a good training ground," Tiana said. "It's why your father and I send kids here."

Claude nodded, "Teach led his house here to dislodge a group of bandits."

"I know," Tiana said as she walked up the rocky path leading to the forest. "If there's one thing your father has unparalleled skill at, it's finding information."

"Did he find anything interesting?" Claude asked.

"He found a lot of strange information as well," Tiana said. "Something about how the only Jeralt Eisner in Holy Kingdom records was born over a century before our year in the Officer's Academy."

Claude nodded as Tiana crouched down, "Mom?"

"There are footsteps here," Tiana observed. "Some of them deeper than others."

"What does that mean?" Claude asked as Tiana turned around, taking a moment to look at the ship moored off in the distance.

"I can say that at least a half dozen magi and archers killed that poor bastard," Tiana said. "Not just a single sorcerer."

Claude frowned as he marched toward a nearby tree, "Mom, there's an arrow here."

Tiana nodded as she tore the arrow from the tree, her fingers observing the wooden shaft, "A strange arrow for sure. Not a model I recognize."

"Oh?" Claude asked.

"Arrowhead isn't a model I recognize," Tiana explained. "It's too well made for it to be a bandit weapon, and it's not a model of arrowhead used in any military I'm aware of."

"Huh, that's odd," Claude admitted.

"I recognize the wood though, and that's rather curious."

"How?" Claude asked. "What's so special about it?"

"The wood is from Goneril territory," Tiana explained. "Which raises the question why it's all the way up here, deep in the Holy Kingdom."

* * *

"Father, if it is possible, I'd like to go on a ride with Yurius," Lorenz said. "I believe that he may be more open about the truth outside of this house."

Count Gloucester looked up from his desk, his lunch forgotten, "You believe he may be more willing to talk if you were alone?"

"I do believe so," Lorenz said after a moment. "Perhaps- perhaps if he were to-"

"Say no more," Count Gloucester said. "I will send you and your friends to the Great Bridge of Myrddin. Perhaps showing him the devastation his partner wrought would be enough to convince him that we are doing the right thing."

Lorenz nodded, "You- you're sending Leonie and Ignatz with me?"

"I am," Count Gloucester said. "It is my hope that the four of you help with the reconstruction process."

"I'll do my best," Lorenz said after a pregnant pause. "May we leave right now?"

"Won't you stay for lunch?" Count Gloucester asked.

Lorenz shook his head, "There is work to be done at Myrddin. I have no time to waste."

Count Gloucester smiled at the words, "Spoken like a true noble. I look forward to the day when you will lead the County of Gloucester."

Lorenz nodded as he turned away from his father, his steps quiet as he descended the stairs from the office.

"Pity," Count Gloucester said as he turned away from the door. "Send for an escort force. I don't want them escaping like the witch."

"What should we do if they try to escape?"

Count Gloucester paused, "You have my permission to kill them, should it come down to it."

"Including Lorenz?"

Count Gloucester closed his eyes, "Yes, including my deluded son."

* * *

"We found another body," the soldier said in greeting.

Tiana grimaced at the news, as her eyes turned to watch the two men, "Very well. Show me."

"We encountered two guards standing over the dead body," the second man, a marine, offered. "We weren't able to confirm anything ourselves."

Tiana nodded as she drew her sword, "I want those guards taken alive. No need for a misunderstanding to blossom into unnecessary bloodshed."

The marine nodded, "Do you have an idea of what may have happened?"

Tiana shook her head, "No, I couldn't tell you, but this organization we face is more than just a group of bandits."

The soldier frowned, "Then why don't we engage them in battle?"

"Let us say that there's a full legion behind them, willing to investigate their disappearance," Tiana said. "Would you like to throw yourself into a pitched battle with them?"

"I suppose not," the soldier admitted.

"Good, now come with me. We will get them to talk, one way or another."

* * *

"We- we are here,"

Spite grimaced as he watched the compound before him, "So this is the seat of House Gloucester."

"Yes," the guard stammered. "We showed you where it is, can we go now?"

Spite nodded as he flicked his wrist, "I suggest you leave for someplace that isn't here."

The men paused before they turned and fled.

"They'll be back," Aranea noted. "What a pain."

"So it is," Spite said. "It will take an act of brutality to convince Gloucester to agree to our demands. Slaughtering a large portion of his guards may just be the answer we needed."

Aranea nodded, "That could certainly work. Still, we could also ambush him when he steps out of his manor."

"Another potential choice," Spite said as he turned back to watch the three men fleeing over the horizon. "We will wait for them in ambush then. Both him and those reinforcements that are sure to come."

"Good," Aranea said as she nodded toward a nearby farmhouse. "We'll make our way over the fence and find a vantage point on Gloucester's manor."

* * *

"I can see your bridge up ahead," Indech said as he stopped mid-river. "Several archers present."

Edelgard grimaced as she stood up, "Indech, may we step off now? I wish to meet with our forces on the ground first."

"I can move our strike force north of the river," Hubert said. "Are you sure you do not need assistance, Lady Edelgard?"

"No," Edelgard said. "Stay out of sight. If possible, we should end this crisis peacefully."

"I understand," Hubert said as he turned to Byleth.

"Hubert, I would never let harm come to her," Byleth whispered into Hubert's ear. "Have no fear."

Hubert grimaced as he stepped back, Indech taking a moment to close in with the side of the river.

"We'll go with you," Seteth said. "As a neutral party."

Edelgard and Byleth exchanged a glance before Edelgard nodded, Byleth moving to grab Edelgard as Indech shuddered against the riverside.

"We'll send up a flare if you are needed." Edelgard said.

"Understood," Hubert said as he bowed, watching Byleth step away from Indech first.

"Once this is over, we will have a conversation," Byleth warned Mortis. "You will tell us all you know."

"We shall see," Mortis said, her voice even.

"Stay safe, my brother," Seteth said, placing a hand against Indech's face as the turtle launched away from the shore, his frame disappearing into the night as Byleth and Edelgard turned to the distant lights of the Imperial Army camp.

"Shall we?" Byleth asked Seteth.

"If possible, I wish to look at your weapon first," Seteth said.

"Aymr?" Edelgard asked as she glanced at the long axe she leaned against. "Is something the matter?"

"Her name was Baal," Seteth said after a moment, his eyes misty. "Over the course of the war, we never came across her body. She seemed to just… disappear into thin air."

Edelgard swallowed as she glanced at Aymr, "I see."

Seteth blinked as a single tear slid down his face, unnoticed by the ancient Nabatean, "May- may I hold her?"

Edelgard closed her eyes as she raised the heavy weapon, Seteth taking the glowing axe as if it was a newborn child.

"Baal," Seteth whispered as he brought the weapon close to his face, the tip of the axe drawing a thin line of green blood. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Father?" Flayn asked.

"Baal was like a sister to your mother, Flayn," Seteth choked out, his voice fraught with emotion. "It was only because of her that I ever went to Enbarr in the first place."

"Oh," Flayn whispered, her fingers tracing the pole of the weapon. "You said that you met mom-"

"At the Church of the Saviour Goddess, yes," Seteth said, his free hand wiping his eyes as he turned to Edelgard. "I must ask, is the cathedral still standing?"

"It is," Edelgard said as Seteth returned Aymr to her hands. "I was told that Dorothea visited the cathedral shortly before we left Enbarr."

"I see," Seteth said as he wiped away the remnant of his single tear, "Pardon me then."

"We should get going," Byleth said. "It's getting late, and we would need an update from the Imperial Army garrison still present here."

"Right," Edelgard said. "Let's go then."

* * *

"Are you feeling alright?" Lorenz asked as he dismounted his horse.

Yurius shook his head, "I might have eaten something that disagreed with me, but I'm alright. Still, this area reeks of fire."

"Mortis burned down the town hall and the church here when she made her escape," Lorenz admitted after a moment of silence.

"The church?" Ignatz stammered. "The church is gone?"

"It is," a soldier of House Gloucester said as he dismounted. "That witch of yours torched the buildings at daybreak. She escaped in the mayhem."

"Maimed Acheron too," another man muttered. "Still, it's not like anyone liked Acheron regardless."

"He is still a man on our side," the first soldier said to his companion. "But yes, she two torched buildings and murdered a patrol that got in her way. Where is it that you find these sorcerers?"

"Mortis said she had contact with Hubert von Vestra," Lorenz said. "This reeks of his ruthlessness."

Yurius said nothing as he glanced at the broken, looming form of the church, "If it helps, I'm sorry. I didn't think Mortis would do that."

"You mentioned once to us that her solution to problems was wholesale slaughter," Ignatz said, his voice hard with disgust, "I see what you mean."

Yurius grimaced as he turned to Lorenz, "You look like you have something to say."

"Yurius, did Hubert put you up to this?" Lorenz asked.

Yurius grimaced as he shook his head, "I haven't seen Hubert for almost six years now. Mortis on the other hand? I can't tell you what she's been up to."

"So she's taking orders from Hubert?" Leonie snapped. "That's a funny way of saying that."

"No, I didn't say that," Yurius said. "Only thing I know is that Mortis has had more recent contact with Hubert than I did."

"So who is it that you take orders from?" Leonie barked, her nose practically inches from Yurius' face. "Edelgard? Faerghus? Kronya?"

Yurius flinched at the mention of Kronya's name.

"Well, I'll tell you something," Leonie snarled. "You've lost. No matter who you work for, they've lost."

Yurius gritted his teeth, "There's too much you don't know to be saying something like that."

"And what does that mean?" Ignatz asked. "Have you been playing us for fools this entire time?"

"It's Mortis," Yurius shot back, glaring at Leonie. "You've said enough for her to put some important things together."

"And what are those?" Leonie snapped.

"Leonie, I won't be so arrogant if I were you," Yurius said. "The information you dropped made you a very dangerous enemy, and knowing him, I'd say that he was coming for you. I'd watch your back from now on."

Leonie spat in Yurius' face as she stormed away, her face a mask of disgust as Lorenz gestured to the guards, the men moving to grab Yurius as he glared at the backs of the retreating trio.

* * *

"Nice and easy now," Tiana snapped at the four guards standing over the dead man. "Put down your weapons and we'll let you live."

"Olympia!" one of the men cried. "We're surrounded!"

"Almyrans," the oldest man growled as he glanced around the clearing. "You lowly half-"

A punch silenced the man as he sprawled to the ground.

"Nobody minded that right?" Darius asked, glancing at the kneeling form of the three guards on the ground, shaking his punching arm.

"No," Tiana said. "Now, tell us just who you bastards are, or we'll get nasty."

"The guy has the same symbol on his cloak," Claude observed as he pointed to the unconscious man, facedown in the dirt.

"Same with these three," a marine from the back of the troop called. "All of them wear the same eye."

"Well well well," Tiana said. "So, tell us, why did you kill your own friend?"

"What do you mean?" one of the soldiers spluttered. "We don't know anything!"

"You have mages with this troop," Tiana said. "You killed one of your people with magic."

"We- we killed one of our own?"

"Yes, and you threw him off the cliff as well," Tiana said, pulling the captured arrow out to show the men. "See this? You fired this into a tree aiming at him."

"The cannibal?" the man who had spoken whispered. "The cannibal was Shambhalan?"

"What is this Shambhalan you mentioned?" Tiana asked, crouched low before the three conscious captives. "That's not a name you find on a map."

The man fell silent, his eyes turning to look at Tiana's knees.

"I asked you a question," Tiana snapped, backhanding the man into another prisoner. "I want an answer."

"Go to hell!" one of the men shouted. "Glory for- ahhh!"

"Sorry, my hand slipped," Darius said as he pulled the arrow from the screaming man. "Did I blow our cover?"

"Smother him." Tiana said. "Set up another ambush. We need to see if the next batch is willing to talk, since this set obviously isn't interested."

"Who do you think they are?" Darius asked as he put a burlap sack over the screaming man's head.

"Goneril wood for arrows?" Tiana scoffed. "Not something you see every day. We'll have to see with the next group."

"And if there isn't one?" a marine asked.

"Then we advance on Conand Tower," Tiana said. "See just what these bastards want with the old fortress."

"Damn Darius," another soldier muttered. "You got him right in the knee. He's never walking again at this rate."

"Silence," Tiana said. "Leave the unconscious guy there and get ready to strike."

* * *

"I see him," Spite murmured as he watched the form of Count Gloucester step from the manor. "Going out for a walk I see."

"Mortis or Yurius?" Aranea asked.

"No," Spite said. "No sign of the other three prisoners either."

"What do we do then?" Aranea asked.

"We need a distraction," Spite said. "I'd rather take a look at his office first before I confront him."

"Do you believe he has a dungeon in there?" Aranea asked her brother.

"Herving didn't have one in his manor," Spite said. "Neither did Ordelia."

"So do you think he does?" Aranea asked.

"With how power hungry he is?" Spite asked. "Of course he does. Stay here. We decide if they learn of your presence, and we'll reveal it on our terms."

"Right," Aranea said, waving her brother off. "Try not to do something stupid, my dearest Addy."

"I try," Spite said as he slipped into the shadows of the estate.

* * *

"Chilon," Thales said as he approached the soldier.

"My lord?" Chilon asked as he turned around.

"We have a… unexpected guest here today," Thales said. "See to it that an empty room is prepared for tonight."

"May I ask why?" Chilon asked. "The residences of Pittacus and Spi-Periander are both unused at the moment."

"Both of those ideas are unacceptable," Thales replied. "Ensure that this room is isolated from all exits. This guest of ours is not to be disturbed, nor is she to escape from Shambhala."

"Shall I summon guards then?" Chilon asked. "And if so, what form?"

"Ensure there is at least a squadron watching this door over the night," Thales said. "In fact, for tonight, I suggest you guard it personally."

Chilon nodded, "As you command, Lord Thales."

"Good," Thales said as he left the room. "You will report to the command room when you are finished."

* * *

Spite frowned as he stepped into the stable, his eyes watching the dark, wooden walls with interest as he walked forward into the building.

Spite smiled when he noticed a large pile of hay in the corner of the room, a flicker of flame roaring to life in his hand as he glanced at the half dozen horses in the stable with him.

As he observed the scene, a smile came to his face as he unlatched each of the stalls.

Spite dropped to a single knee when he reached the five empty stalls at the end of the stable before he glanced around the empty manor behind him, taking a moment to observe the courtyard before he lit his fire, his fingers nursing the flame as it devoured the haystack.

Spite smirked as he stood up again, taking slow, deliberate steps into a copse of trees at the edge of the property, watching as a thin trail of smoke seeped through the ceiling of the stable.

"Quick!" a voice shouted from the manor as smoke seeped through the planks of the stable's roof. "Something is burning!"

Spite smirked as he watched a group of servants hurry from the depths of the manor, taking a path around the manor as the horses bolted from their burning stalls, slamming into the crowd of shouting servants as Spite slipped into the manor.

* * *

"Mortis," Dorothea said as she climbed shore, "Is the dress holding up?"

"I thank you for it," Mortis replied. "It fits well."

"Do we have a plan?" Indech asked as he stood, watching the distant fires at the Great Bridge of Myrddin.

"No," Hubert said. "We are waiting on Petra's scouting report.

"Who else went ahead?" Dorothea asked.

"Yuri went forward as well," Hubert said. "Still, I don't believe that he'll be back first."

"Many scouts and patrols," Petra said as she hurried back, panting as she stopped before the group. "Heavy infantry, marksmen."

Hubert nodded, "And what of the crop fields to the north?"

Petra shook her head, "Nothing. No body in fields."

Hubert nodded, "We will see what Yuri has to say when he returns. We need to understand just who is guarding the Great Bridge of Myrddin."

"Should we look at wheat fields?" Petra asked.

"We need to," Hubert said. "We need to know our options moving forward, and that includes marching through the crop fields."

Petra nodded as she turned away, jogging into the forest as Sylvain yawned.

"Well Sylvain," Dorothea commented. "Slept well last night?"

"I did," Sylvain said, exchanging a glance and a blush with Mortis. "Thank you for asking."

"The two of you were… how do I say this?" Dorothea pondered.

"Cute?" Indech asked.

"Yes!" Dorothea exclaimed. "You two were so adorable together."

Sylvain flushed even deeper as he turned away, "I- I thought I was only going to take a nap. I didn't think I'd end up holding onto her as well."

"It's a place of sleep," Indech said at last. "I've lost count of the time that I caught Janet sleeping there."

"Janet?" Mortis asked, her eyes narrowed.

"Ah, so you do recognize the name." Indech said.

Mortis nodded, "Wife of Saint Cichol and mother of Saint Cethleann. Still, I was not aware she frequented the capital of Old Agartha."

"Our peoples were friends once," Indech said, a grimace lining his face. "Once."

"Is this a bad time?" Yuri asked as he hurried before the group. "There's something that I need to tell you."

"What is that?" Hubert asked.

"I've found Ignatz, Leonie, and Lorenz," Yuri said. "They were standing with a group of Gloucester guards."

"Armed or unarmed?" Hubert asked.

"None of the group were armed," Yuri said. "Though there were no shortage of armed soldiers there."

"How many soldiers were there?" Hubert asked.

"More than what we had to fight against when we took the bridge to begin with," Yuri said. "Still, from what I can tell, Gloucester lacks mages, but there's no shortage of heavy infantry in their place."

"What were your friends doing?" Indech asked.

"They were picking through a destroyed building." Yuri said. "I couldn't tell you what it was they were looking for."

Hubert nodded, "Do you believe they are still prisoners to Count Gloucester?"

"Hard to say," Yuri said. "They seemed content to pick through that building."

"I see," Hubert said. "That is information we need to take into consideration. Was there any sign of Count Gloucester?"

Yuri shook his head, "Nothing."

"Then we must assume that they have been compromised," Hubert said, his face a grimace. "Indech, take Felix and Bernadetta with you across the river. Ensure that the professor is aware of this fact."

"Me? I didn't do anything! I'm sorry!" Bernadetta exclaimed, startled by the mention of her name.

"Bernadetta, I need you for a mission," Hubert said, shaking his head at Bernadetta's reaction. "And no, I do not need your apology."

"Eh? What do you want me to do?" Bernadetta asked.

"If there is an attack on the Professor and Lady Edelgard, I need you to bring down the attackers," Hubert said. "You are our best archer as it stands, with Ashe and Ignatz both unavailable."

"The same goes for me?" Felix asked.

"Indeed," Hubert said. "From Yuri's report, it appears that the Great Bridge of Myrddin houses the bulk of Gloucester's forces."

"Good," Felix said. "I know what you want then."

Hubert nodded as Felix turned back to Indech.

"Yuri, I want you to take a closer look at the guard formations still present on the bridge, and establish key strategic points we need to take."

"Got it," Yuri said. "I'll be on my way then."

"You do that," Hubert said as he waved the group away from the main road. "The rest of you, remain hidden. I don't need a patrol to see us before we are ready to strike."

* * *

Spite grimaced as he flipped through Count Gloucester's papers, his eyes drinking in the crucial information of Gloucester's government as he glanced around the room, the contents of the chest he had entrusted Mortis with scattered across the floor.

"Worthless idiots," Spite spat, glancing at the cup of Gloucester's tea that he had drunk. "Can't even make a cup of tea properly."

"I thought you said there's nobody left here!" a voice cried. "How are we supposed to get the gold now?"

"Shut it fool," another voice snarled. "You'll expose both of us!"

Spite fell silent as he leaned back into the chair, his eyes on the door of the office a moment before the door exploded off its hinges.

"Death," Spite hissed, the dark magic claiming the man who had blasted through the door, the scrawny man clawing at his throat as the dark magic devoured the life within him.

"What the f-" the other man stammered as Spite heard a china pot shatter.

"Lavrentiy!" a woman cried from the central hall. "There is a fire outside! Help me!"

Spite frowned as he rose to his feet, his eyes vigilant as he stepped over the convulsing corpse at the foot of the door, watching the man at the bottom of the staircase stalk forward, a knife behind his back.

"Lavrentiy!" Count Gloucester shouted as he burst through the doors of the manor. "What in the name of the Goddess are you doing? The stables are burning and the horses need aid!"

"Count Gloucester?" the man asked, his face shocked. "Then who was-"

Spite smirked as he tossed forward a orb of fire, the flames illuminating the atrium as Count Gloucester flinched at the presence of the unwelcome intruder.

"You-" Count Gloucester snarled as he glared at Spite. "You set the fire."

"That is correct," Spite replied. "I am Periander, and you have evoked my wrath."

"Lavrentiy!" Count Gloucester shouted. "Kill him!"

"Right away-" Lavrentiy cried as he stormed up the stairs, a dagger in hand.

Spite frowned as he raised a hand and unleashed a spell that smashed into Lavrentiy, the man screaming as he fell back down the steps, the flames from the fireball devouring his flesh as he withered at the foot of the staircase.

"Count Gloucester," Spite said. "You have unlawfully detained two of my agents. You will deliver them to me unharmed, or I will set ablaze the entire county of Gloucester."

"You monster," Count Gloucester hissed. "Who put you up to this?"

Spite smiled, taking a moment to observe the man below him, "You have spat upon the will of the lord you once swore allegiance to. And you want to know who wishes to punish you for that transgression?"

"You work for the Seven," Count Gloucester snarled. "Did they put you up to this?"

"I admit that I may have a friendship with a certain member of the Seven," Spite said. "But no, they did not put me up to this."

Count Gloucester swallowed as Lavrentiy stopped his cries, "What is it that you want? The gold is in my office."

"The gold is worth nothing to me," Spite said. "All I want you to do is to return Mortis and Yurius to me. Do this by sunset tomorrow and your County can return to its worthless little rebellion. Fail… well, I believe you wish to avoid that."

Count Gloucester took a step back, "I could have you killed right now!"

Spite laughed at the comment as he placed his hand against the wall of the manor, "You have a pride about you. I will shatter it."

Count Gloucester swore as he turned to the firefighting force outside, "Guards! On me!"

"They cannot hear you," Spite observed as he climbed down the steps. "The horses and the men shouting will do that for you."

"You monster! What- what is it that you want?" Count Gloucester asked as Spite seized the Count by the throat.

"I am only a man, for now," Spite said, searing flames blackening the flesh of Count Gloucester's throat as Spite tightened his grip into a vice. "Do not make me a monster."

Count Gloucester choked as Spite unleashed a mighty spell, the interior of the mansion engulfed in flame as the fires devoured the wooden fixtures of the house.

"Let this be a reminder of the enemies you have made," Spite warned the man as he brought his face close to the gasping man. "Return Mortis and Yurius by nightfall tomorrow unless you want your entire county up in flames.

Count Gloucester choked a gasp as Spite flung the man to the ground, striding away to the edges of the estate as Aranea warped her brother away.

* * *

"You do like fire too much," Aranea observed as the manor in the distance burned.

Spite shook his head as he turned and watched the roof of the manor collapse, finally gaining the attention of the firefighting crew, "I've delivered my ultimatum. Tomorrow we will either see Mortis and Yurius returned to us or I will torch the crop fields of Gloucester County."

"How long did you give them?" Aranea asked.

"Nightfall tomorrow," Spite replied. "I have no doubt they'll be able to gather Mortis and Yurius and return them to us by then, assuming that they aren't dead."

"They killed Mortis?" Aranea whispered.

"I found the radio," Spite said. "Destroyed beyond repair. No sign of either Mortis or Yurius within the manor."

"You- you seem awfully calm," Aranea observed. "Addy, are you alright?"

Spite turned his gaze to the two sleeping figures of Ashe and Ingrid, "If it comes down to it, I won't leave Mortis to wander Zaharas alone."

Aranea swallowed as she turned her gaze to Ashe and Ingrid, "I see. Which of the two of them would you use?"

"It's not a bridge I want to cross unless I have to," Spite said. "Still, the onus rests on the shoulders of Count Gloucester."

"And all we can do is wait," Aranea said.

* * *

"I asked you a question Thales," the voice said as Chilon moved to knock on the door.

"All will come in time," Thales replied. "Remember that you are a guest here, and a rather unwelcome one at that. Had Periander been here, he would have torn you to pieces."

"Where. Is. My. Daughter?" the woman asked. "I know that you know where she is."

"I have nothing to say to you," Thales said. "You are here as a guest of ours. You are worth nothing in the grand scheme."

"You would say that to my face?" the woman shouted. "After all I have done for you?"

"Anselma," Thales snarled. "Every debt you have extracted from us has been paid for in full. Understand that it is only by my own mercy that I did not have Periander take your life."

Chilon swallowed as he knocked on the door.

"Come in," Thales barked.

Chilon opened the door, saluting Thales as he entered.

"Is the room ready?" Thales asked.

"The room is ready," Chilon said. "And this is?"

"A woman on very thin ice," Thales snarled. "Take her away. She will join us in the morning, and not a second more."

"I can walk on my own," the woman protested as she stood up.

"Yes, I am aware of that," Thales snarled. "If you are wise, you will return to your quarters until we summon you for breakfast tomorrow morning. If you are unwise, you will protest."

Chilon stood firm as the woman shoved him, the woman staggering back as Chilon turned back to Thales.

"An unwelcome guest from Myson's expedition," Thales explained as the woman left the room. "She will serve her purpose soon enough."

"Is there a reason we should keep our eyes on her?" Chilon asked.

"She is a kinslayer, Chilon," Thales stated. "Kinslayer and traitor on multiple accounts. And she deserves to be treated as such."

* * *

**AN: **Chapter 31 complete!

Read, Review, yada yada.

Still looking for both serious and comedic ideas for after the story is over.

**AN2:** Noticed slight errors in chapters 27 and 30. Chapters will be updated.

**Next time:**

Unspeaking- Edelgard.

Kinslayer- Thales

Tamam Shud- Solon

Divide- Dorothea

Breakthrough- Linhardt


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32:** The Burning of Gloucester. Part 5.

* * *

"Father?" Lorenz whispered as Count Gloucester staggered before him. "Father! What have they done?"

Count Gloucester opened his mouth to speak, but only a choked gasp escaped Count Gloucester's lips.

"The witch attacked him," a soldier said. "She must have slipped by our cordon."

"Mortis?" Lorenz spat, his voice quivering with rage. "Do we know it was her? For certain?"

"She burned down the stables and Gloucester Manor," another soldier scoffed, his eyes turning to Lorenz. "Do you know of another fire based sorcerer with a hatred for Count Gloucester?"

Lorenz swallowed, "Where are the medics? We must heal him!"

"That's what we're here to do," the first soldier said as a pair of medics hurried forward, their faces tight as they pulled the count away, the brand around his throat a dark red in the morning light.

Lorenz swallowed as he turned away, his hands clenched into fists, "When I find her, I'm going to-"

"Lorenz?" Ignatz asked.

"What is it?" Leonie asked, her eyes on Ignatz.

"I don't- nevermind," Ignatz said, taking a step back as he raised his hands in surrender.

* * *

"Are we ready?" Byleth asked Edelgard as he placed her crown on her head, his hands wrapping loose strands of pale hair into braids.

"As much as I'll ever be," Edelgard said as she planted a kiss on Byleth's cheek, their hands held together for a moment before Edelgard tore herself away.

"Let's go," Byleth said as the royal couple stepped from their tent, Edelgard nodded as Byleth took a heavy Imperial standard from an accompanying soldier.

The crowd before them parted as they watched the Emperor and her retinue march through the camp toward the bridgehead.

"My emperor," the captain at the bridgehead greeted. "Royal Consort Byleth."

"We will be going ahead now," Edelgard said. "Be on your guard, but it is preferable that we settle this without further bloodshed."

The soldier nodded as he stepped aside, opening the way to the rebellious Great Bridge of Myrddin.

Byleth glanced behind them as Indech, Bernadetta, and Felix followed the royal pair, the swordsman exchanging a glance with the soldier as he passed.

"Let's go," Edelgard said as she took her first steps forward, the plate of Emperor Sophia unmistakable in the morning light.

Even as they crossed the bridge, they heard the sound of shouting and distant footsteps.

"So they're coming," Byleth murmured, his grip tightening on the standard in his hands.

"They are," Felix said, his face gaunt as he glanced at Edelgard. "Shieldwall. They're nervous."

Edelgard nodded as she stopped at the edge of the town, Aymr in one hand and Sophia's shield in the other.

"Looks like militia," Byleth observed as Edelgard slammed the point of Aymr into the stones below, the sound crashing though the town as the shield wall wavered, as if expecting a divine calamity.

"Someone is coming," Felix said as he turned to Edelgard.

Edelgard nodded as the shield wall parted, the lilac head of Lorenz Hellman Gloucester appearing from behind the line of infantry.

"So Yuri's report was accurate after all," Byleth observed, a frown on his lips.

"Lorenz Hellman Gloucester," Edelgard barked as she looked at him. "I come here to demand your father end this rebellion and return to imperial service."

"I understand that," Lorenz said as he stared back at Edelgard. "But I will not accept that you would rather assassinate him than negotiate with him."

Edelgard exchanged a glance with Byleth before she turned back to Lorenz, "I did not send an assassin after your father."

"But yet my father has still been maimed," Lorenz continued. "His stables and his manor burned to ash."

"Where is your father, Lorenz?" Edelgard asked, her tone even. "This is not your fight."

"Your assassin burned down the town hall here and the Gloucester family mausoleum," Lorenz replied. "And that's before she maimed my father."

Edelgard glanced at the destroyed building behind the shield wall without saying a word.

"Where is Count Gloucester?" Byleth asked, stepping forward.

"You should know," Lorenz shot back. "Mortis destroyed him. He can't even speak after what she did to him."

"No, we did not order Mortis to attack your father," Edelgard snapped. "You are mistaken. Hubert would never let her out of his sight."

Lorenz narrowed his eyes, "Hubert? Hubert von Vestra? So she does know Hubert then."

Edelgard exchanged a glance with Byleth before she continued, "Hubert has not had contact with Mortis in almost six years before we captured her. And he certainly does not know where your father is to send an assassin."

"But he knows where Gloucester Manor is," Lorenz snarled. "And he has both the motive and the opportunity, an opportunity you just admitted yourself. "

"I have my faith that Hubert did not order Mortis to assassinate your father," Edelgard snapped, her eyes hard. "And do you know why that is?"

Lorenz narrowed his eyes as Edelgard took a deep breath, "I have seen Mortis in action, and I know of Hubert's determination. Had Hubert ordered Mortis to kill your father, he would not survive the attempt."

Lorenz glared at Edelgard as she turned away.

"We will demand an answer from Hubert," Edelgard said. "And then we will return."

* * *

"Anything?" Tiana asked as Darius hurried back to the group.

"Nothing," Darius replied. "We've reached the edge of their fortifications, but there's no sign of them in these woods."

Tiana nodded, "Was there anything out of the ordinary that you noticed?"

"The entire region stinks like hell," Darius said. "Smells like a mass grave."

Tiana nodded as she waved her men to come close, "Have our prisoners said anything?"

"Nothing," a marine said as he unsheathed his sword. "Short of cutting them up, I don't see any way we can get them to talk."

Tiana nodded, "Two of you, march the prisoners back to the beachhead. The rest of you, come with me. We'll take a look at Conand Tower ourselves."

The warband nodded as they spread out, the group stalking through the forest as the prisoners were dragged away.

* * *

"Has the patrol returned yet?" Solon asked.

"No," Vito said. "Should I take another team and go?"

"Very well," Solon said. "Be quick. We leave this place today, and anyone not present for roll call will be left behind."

Vito nodded as he glanced at Talos, "Let's go then."

"You taking your whole squad?" Talos asked as he stood up, taking a final gulp of his tea as he gestured for a pack of his men to close with him.

"We don't need to, but I'm sure my boys want to get away from all the corpses," Vito said. "I'll leave the knife job behind, but that's all."

"Sounds like a plan," Talos said as the pair stepped away from Solon. "Why do you think old man Olympia hasn't returned yet?"

"With this stink, I don't think anyone can hold down food," Vito said. "Maybe he found a hog in the forest that he didn't want to share."

Talos snorted as he cracked his neck, "Alright then, let's hope he has leftovers."

* * *

"Do you think it's possible that Hubert stepped out of line?" Edelgard asked Byleth as she stepped back into their tent, her arms crossed against her midsection as she flipped through a series of papers, her eyes skimming each line before moving on.

"With him, it is possible," Byleth said. "Still, I don't believe the others would have let him get away with it even if he did."

"I think it's not like him," Edelgard said. "Hubert made it public that he murdered his father for betraying my father during the Insurrection. To simply have Count Gloucester maimed doesn't seem like a plan Hubert or Mortis would enact."

"I agree," Byleth said. "We'll need to wait until nightfall before we cross the Airmid River though, or otherwise we'll give away Hubert's cover."

Edelgard nodded as she glanced at the other side of the Airmid River, her arms against her midsection as she watched the distant woods for a sign of life.

* * *

"Lord Thales?" Chilon asked as he stepped into the office of the Agastya, dark circles around his eyes. "The… kinslayer requests an audience."

Thales nodded as he closed a file, rising to his feet as he pushed back his chair, "Was there a specific topic she wished to talk about?"

"No," Chilon said. "There was nothing on that front, but she demanded your presence in particular."

Thales nodded as he glanced at the stack of papers on his desk, "I've been reading through Periander's files."

"The current one or the previous one?"

"The deceased one, the previous Agastya," Thales corrected. "The only Agastya to die of natural causes in over a century."

Chilon nodded, "Were there things he hid from us?"

"A great amount," Thales said. "His writings contain a number of spells that even I was not aware of."

"Where did he find these things?" Chilon asked. "And if he invented them, why did he hide them from us?"

"He did not," Thales said. "He referenced a previous Periander in his works."

"Odd," Chilon said. "Do you believe that Spite- agh, the current Periander knows of these spells?"

"I do," Thales said. "Still, the work in question appears to be largely situational, and I believe the current Periander has never had an opportunity to use the magics within the previous Agastya's notes."

Chilon nodded as he opened the door to the woman's bedroom, "I will leave you be then."

"No," Thales said as he glared at the woman within the room. "You will wait here, in the event that our unwelcome guest becomes… hysterical."

"Right," Chilon said as he stood by the door. "I understand."

* * *

"These woods give me the creeps," a soldier said as he followed the narrow path through the dense forest. "Is it just me, or are we being watched?"

Talos glanced around the forest, "Just carry on, we'll be back in Zaharas by nightfall today. There's nothing to fear here."

Vito nodded as he stepped past a tree, his eyes narrowing as he raised a hand, the convoy behind him freezing in place as he stepped forward.

"Vito, is something wrong?"

"The body is gone," Vito said as he glanced around the forest. "Olympia! Have you buried the dead one?"

"He's not here," a woman's voice said, her tone frigid. "But we are."

Talos spun to the source of the voice as a band of infantry rose from the underbrush, bows aimed and swords drawn.

"Almyrans," Vito snarled. "Where is Olympia?"

"He's alive," the woman said. "Who are you?"

"That is none of your concern," Vito said.

"Hands where I can see them, or I'll put an arrow in you," a man said, a simple wooden bow in his hands warned. "We have questions."

"Hey!" a soldier shouted as his quiver was emptied, a soldier moving to hand over the arrows to the woman.

"Huh, Goneril wood," the woman observed. "Who are you, so deep in Kingdom territory, wielding arrows made from Goneril wood?"

"Eno-" a soldier cried toward the back of the convoy, his shout silenced as he fell into the dirt, an arrow embedded in his throat.

"Nine," the woman observed. "Npw, answer my question."

"Lady Tiana, should we just shoot them?"

"Last chance to talk," the woman warned Vito. "Who are you bastards?"

Vito fell silent.

"Enough!" Talos snarled. "We're Periander's warband!"

"And how did you get here?" the woman barked. "You certainly didn't make your way through the beach, and I'm sure you didn't fight your way past House Galatea to reach Conand Tower."

Vito tensed at the words, leading the young man before him to reply with a tensing of his bow.

"Attack!" Vito shouted as he ducked, charging the man before him.

* * *

Claude lowered his bow to meet the attacking man, the arrow plunging deep into the rampaging man's shoulder as the two groups sprung into action.

The man before him grunted in pain as he charged into Claude, the attack knocking his bow from his hands as Claude fell backward, his arms raised tall as the pale man brought his forearms down, smashing into his arms as the battle raged around them.

Claude winced at the heavy blow, his arms raised around his head as the man brought another heavy attack down, his arms primed to block the attack to his head..

But Claude felt surprise, then pain, then rage.

The man had punched past his defense, the blow knocking his head to the side as he felt the taste of blood in his mouth, his defensive stance faltering as the man towered over him, throwing blow after blow against his lips and nose.

Claude growled as he seized the man's arm, bringing his shoulder against the man's chin as he threw his upper body against his opponent, the heavy blow knocking his opponent back as he tore the arrow free from the man's damaged shoulder, enticing a roar of pain.

"Go to hell," the man below him managed before Claude brought the arrow down, slamming the arrow into his target's eye, the attack splattering him with blood as he staggered to his feet.

"Prince Khalid, are you alright?" a marine asked as Claude rose to his feet, wiping away blood from his nose.

"Fine," Claude said. "Mom, are you alright?"

Tiana waved him off, "Most of them didn't even put up a fight. Yours was the only one that did any damage."

Claude glanced down at the man sprawled in the dirt below him, "Is that frost on his hand?"

"Looks like it," the marine said, kicking the hand away. "Can confirm. It's frost alright. Looks like he was a mage."

"Looks like you got yourself bruised up," Tiana said as she tore a strip of cloth away from one of the men, turning to the marine next to Claude. "You, clean him up. I don't want him in a fight if his nose is still bleeding."

"Right," the marine said as he led Claude away. "Come along now, Prince Khalid, there should be a stream nearby."

* * *

Aranea sneezed as the wind picked up.

"Something wrong?" Spite asked as he turned to Aranea, his arms crossed as he took a bite of bread.

"Damn pollen," Aranea said. "It's hard to breathe with the stuff in the air."

"Noted," Spite said. "Are you going to be alright?"

"Might be difficult to- oh I see," Aranea said. "You're thinking this can be used as a weapon."

"You are correct," Spite replied. "A sustained wave of concentrated pollen could hold back a large group of infantry if cast correctly."

"Clever," Aranea acknowledged. "What do you think we do with the two brats?"

"You want revenge on them for killing you?" Spite asked. "They were there, weren't they?"

Aranea shrugged, "Killing them would be so boring. More fun to leave them at the mercy of these rebel scum."

Spite nodded, "We'll see when the time comes."

"You don't want to kill them, do you?" Aranea asked.

"They've been well behaved," Spite argued. "They've also helped us greatly."

"Right, with Kronya," Aranea muttered, receiving a glare from her brother. "Fine, forget I ever said anything."

"Like I said," Spite said, waving his sister off. "We'll see when the time comes."

* * *

"Has there been any change in my father's condition?" Lorenz asked as the town surgeon stepped from his room.

The man shook his head, "The fire that burned him destroyed his vocal cords. He'll never speak again."

Lorenz clenched his hands as he turned around, "Were there any witnesses to what happened?"

A wheezing gasp escaped Count Gloucester as the older man staggered through the door, his bare torso bandaged with a dozen lesser burns.

"Father!" Lorenz cried. "What is going on?"

Count Gloucester shook his head as he gestured to a quill on a nearby desk, a wheezing gasp escaping him as Lorenz brought him the quill and a piece of parchment.

"Father, if there is anything we can do to help-" Lorenz started, his protest silenced as his father glared at him, the man scribbling on the parchment as another rasp escaped Count Gloucester, the older man slamming the quill to the desk as Lorenz rushed forward.

"Bring me Yurius and Mortis," Lorenz read from the paper, his brow furrowed. "Right away father. Right away."

Count Gloucester coughed as his son fled through the door, his eyes widening as he grasped at the slammed door, his wounded body falling to the ground as Periander's demand made its way through his foggy mind.

"Count Gloucester?" the doctor spluttered, taking a moment to hoist the older man up. "Are you alright?"

Count Gloucester gritted his teeth as he pushed himself back up to his feet, taking slow, shaky steps toward the door.

"Count!" the doctor pleaded. "You must rest!"

Count Gloucester shoved the doctor away as he staggered to the door, his arms leaning against the heavy wood for support as he moved to leave the room.

"Let me get the door for you," the doctor said, pushing the door away, leaving Count Gloucester with no support as he fell forward, the cobblestones of the floor rising to greet him.

* * *

"My emperor?"

Edelgard and Byleth glanced up at the guard who had spoken, their eyes taking a moment to find the man in the midday sun.

"What is it?" Byleth asked. "Has Count Gloucester been spotted?"

The soldier shook his head, "Lorenz Hellman Gloucester has given us a demand."

"And that demand is?" Edelgard asked.

"He demanded that a certain Mortis." the soldier said. "This Mortis is to be taken to him."

"No," Edelgard said. "Mortis is important to our plans, and we need to leave for Conand Tower after this… episode."

"I- see," the soldier said. "I'll send the message then."

"Wait," Edelgard said. "We'll deliver the message personally. If Lorenz can promise us that Mortis will be returned to us in short order, then perhaps there is an option where this will end without bloodshed."

"Of course then," the young man said. "This way, if you will."

* * *

"Solon!"

Solon turned his gaze to glare at the man rushing into the tent, his hand firm against his staff, "Is something the matter?"

"Macuil, we found Macuil's forces moving against our northern outpost," the young man managed. "He's coming for us."

Solon narrowed his eyes as he moved from the inside of the tent, grimacing as he turned to the soldier. "Fall back to the south. Vito, Olympia, and Talos will all be rejoining our forces. When that happens, strike and ensure that Macuil dies."

"Understood!" the young man shouted as he turned to the eastern forest, his body sprinting as he disappeared into the ruins of Conand Tower.

Solon swore as a crack in his back forced him to stop, his teeth clenched as a shadow fell upon him.

Solon glared up at the ghostly pegasus knight looming over him, lance pointed at his heart.

* * *

"And what is it that you offer me today?" Thales asked as he sat in the room with Anselma von Hresvelg. "Why should I continue to offer you luxuries that could go to my warriors?"

"You need me, Thales," Anselma snarled. "And after all I have done for you, you intend to renege on your debts?"

"And what makes you say that?" Thales asked. "If I were to kill you, it would make at least two members of my Septet very, very happy."

Anselma glared at Thales, "And what of all the favours I have done for you?"

"What is it that you believe I owe you a debt over?" Thales sneered. "The previously agreed on payments for your brother's murder? The settled matter of sacrificing your daughter only after Lord Periander carved through all of your nieces and nephews? Just what is it that you have done for me that I must pay tribute to?"

"You wouldn't hurt me," Anselma said. "You still need me."

"And why is that, kinslayer?" Thales asked. "All I desire is that your daughter kneels before me, either alive or dead. Is your worthless scrap of a hide worth so much to you that you will sacrifice even that which you once sought to save?"

Anselma fell silent, glaring at Thales with cold rage.

"Still," Thales said, a frigid smirk lighting up his face. "I have yet to fulfil my final bargain. I have yet to show you your daughter, at least not face to face."

Anselma gritted her teeth, "What are you planning?"

"That is a good question," Thales said with a smile, "You will serve your purpose in due time. The only question is how I should treat you before that time."

Anselma snarled as she glared at Thales, "Without me-"

"Without you I would have found another way to destroy Ionius," Thales said, taking a moment to survey the room. "Chilon, I have made my decision."

"My Lord?" Chilon asked.

"Strip her of all these… luxuries," Thales said, waving around the spacious room. "Ensure she has three meals a day and the clothes on her back, but nothing more."

"You wouldn't dare treat me like this!" Anselma protested.

"My final debt to you is to allow you to see your daughter one last time," Thales said as he stood up, turning his back to the woman before him. "I will uphold my end of the bargain, but I assure you, I will not do one thing more."

Chilon paused, "Do we remove the bed as well?"

Thales frowned as he looked at the heavy bed, "Keep the frame here, but the mattress and the sheets are to go."

* * *

"Let go!" Yurius shouted as the man threw him forward, the action leaving him sprawled on the rough cobblestones. "What is it that you want from me?"

"Count Gloucester has demanded your presence," the man snarled. "Come on, get in."

Yurius glared at the men before he stepped forward, his eyes taking a moment to take in the small room where Count Gloucester lay.

A hacking cough from the man caught his attention as he turned his gaze to the man, the marks of a terrible burn around his throat evident despite the faint light of the room.

"The hell happened to you?" Yurius muttered, stepping close to the pained man.

The man on the bed took a look at Yurius before he opened his mouth, yet said nothing.

"What is it that you want with me?" Yurius asked.

The man hacked in turn, a winding, hacking noise, raising a pale, slender finger at a small piece of parchment on the desk.

Yurius frowned as he glanced at the scrap, his hands raising the message close to his eyes to read the two words written on the parchment.

"Lord Periander," Yurius said as he turned to the man below. "Spite."

Count Gloucester coughed in turn, his body wracked with agony as he raised a finger at him.

"He wants me?" Yurius guessed.

Count Gloucester moaned as he fell back down, his breathing becoming even as his eyes closed.

"Spite came here, for me?" Yurius asked.

"Yurius?" a voice asked from the doorway.

Yurius turned his gaze to Evi, the small girl grinning as she embraced him in a hug.

"Evi!" Yurius exclaimed, his voice tinged with discomfort. "What are you doing here?"

"The guards are gone!" Evi said. "And- and Acheron promised me a big reward."

"Acheron?" Yurius asked, his voice filled with disgust. "What did he do?"

"He promised us that we would never have to work if we helped him," Evi ranted, a light in her eyes. "Oh I'm so excited!"

"Evi, just what did you agree to?" Yurius stammered.

"All I have to do is kill him," Evi said, pointing to the broken form of Count Gloucester on the bed. "That's all, and then we'll be able to go home together."

"Evi, I don't think Acheron is trustworthy," Yurius pleaded with the girl. "And I need to be somewhere else, so could we continue this elsewhere?"

"Yurius, do you love me?" Evi asked, her eyes wide as she looked at Yurius.

Yurius closed his eyes as he thought of Monica's smiling face, "No, I don't. I have someone waiting for me."

"Then why did you help me?" Evi asked, pulling a dagger from her belt. "Why did you help me?"

"Because I believed at the time that you were a good person," Yurius said. "That you would be able to do something good with your life."

"Oh," Evi whispered, her voice tiny as she turned to the helpless form of Count Gloucester.

"No!" Yurius screamed. "Don't!"

* * *

Solon groaned as he threw another blast of magic behind him, the undead pegasus knight evaporating into air as another took his place, his lance aimed for Solon's heart.

"Stop," a voice barked as the pegasus knight darted away, a tall, green haired man stepping forward from behind the undead legion.

"Abomination," Solon spat. "You are an abomination."

"And you are a monster," Macuil said. "A monster who I will end personally."

Solon growled as he unleashed a powerful spell of darkness, a series of dark orbs surrounding the Nabatean warrior before slamming into him.

Macuil took the attack head on, the darkness fizzling as he pointed his sword at Solon, "I sentence you to death, Agarthan."

"You'll have to kill me first," Solon growled.

"With pleasure," Macuil snarled, leaping forward with a downward slash, the attack narrowly missing Solon's flesh, carving through the man's robes.

"I will kill you," Solon snarled. "I will slaughter all of your wretched kind. Cichol, Indech, Ceth-"

Macuil felt a spike of rage through his heart at the mention of his niece, throwing his blade into Solon, the blade tearing through his heart as Macuil stalked forward, tearing the blade free from the chest of his victim.

"Die," Macuil growled as he seized the old man's head, channelling his hatred into the unholy Agarthan as arcs of lightning flashed around his body.

Solon screamed as the lightning overloaded his body, his arms reduced to quivering spasms as Macuil executed the Dark Bishop, the man's reforged body shattering as Macuil finally threw the dead man to the ground, the electricity forcing Solon's corpse to continue its spastic dance.

"Who the hell are you?" a voice asked from behind Macuil.

Macuil turned around to find the speaker, a tall, regal woman, one hand over her mouth, the other pointing a trembling blade at him.

"Are you my enemy?" Macuil asked in turn.

The woman looked at the dead man behind him and lowered her blade, "I am Tiana Shah."

Macuil sniffed the air in turn, though he smelt nothing apart from death and ozone, "You bear a Crest."

Tiana narrowed her eyes, "I do."

"Mom, what's going- oh."

Macuil turned to the young man who had arrived, his face surprised at the presence of his pegasus knight bodyguards.

"Khalid, we were just having a nice little chat with this kind helper," the woman said. "Put down your weapon, you're being rude."

"Right," the man said. "Sorry, we're just on edge."

"You are Almyran," Macuil observed.

The man flinched, "I, well, yes."

"I came here to slaughter this… rabble," Macuil said after a moment, gesturing to the lifeless form of Solon.

"We were just passing through," the man said. "Right mom?"

"Yes, of course," the woman said, a false smile plastered on her lips. "We're… traders."

Macuil looked at the pair for a moment before he transformed, his new form towering over both stunned humans as he slipped away, feeling the wind on his wings as he returned to the Sreng Desert.

* * *

"Mom, what the hell was that?" Claude asked as he watched the dragon disappear over the horizon.

"The Lord of the Desert," Tiana whispered. "I had thought of him as a myth, but…"

"So what do we do now?" Claude asked. "Do we stay here? Because I don't think anyone can train in this place."

Tiana nodded as she turned back to the abandoned fortress, "I can see that, and smell it too."

Claude nodded, "So what do we do?"

"I- wait, why are my guards?" Tiana muttered. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Mom?" Claude asked, turning to the sight of a dozen of Tiana's guards marching through the forest, hands raised over their heads.

"Tiana!" a voice shouted from above. "Come quietly!"

"Bloody hell," Tiana hissed as she glanced up, her teeth clenched. "It's him."

"Who?" Claude asked.

"Him," Tiana snarled, pointing to a shifting figure above. "Piggy."

"Piggy?" Claude asked, turning to his mother in confusion.

"Tiana!" the voice shouted again. "Come quietly and I promise that you will be spared."

"Piggy!" Tiana shouted back at the man above. "Get down here right now!"

Claude choked, "Mom, just who is this Piggy?"

"Pygmalion Otto Galatea," Tiana explained. "The current Count Galatea and a good friend of mine when I went to the Officer's Academy."

"You know that's a lie," the man scoffed as he dismounted his pegasus, his eyes glaring at Tiana. "You and Reza made life hell for me."

"Wait, he knows dad?" Claude spluttered.

"Yes," Count Galatea said, a bitter chuckle on his lips. "I knew your father, and my daughter has informed me of you as well, Claude von Riegan."

"Khalid Shah," Tiana explained. "Not Claude von Riegan."

"Shah," Count Galatea said, watching Claude for a moment. "I see. He shares Reza's eyes."

"He does," Tiana said. "And so much more."

Count Galatea nodded as a man hurried forward, his jaw dropping as he stared at the woman before him.

"Holst, that's enough," Count Galatea chided the man. "You're making Lady Tiana uncomfortable."

Holst nodded as he stood still, "Lady Tiana von Riegan, I am arresting you under the authority of the Adrestian Empire for breaching our borders. You will be taken to the nearest territory and imprisoned."

"Tiana Shah," Tiana corrected. "I have renounced the title of my birth."

Holst glanced at Count Galatea before he turned back to Tiana, "Very well then, Lady Tiana Shah, I am placing you under arrest."

"For how long?" Tiana asked. "I don't want to be in Fodlan when winter comes. The cold is terrible for my brittle bones."

Holst frowned as he shifted his gaze away to the trail of Almyran prisoners "The emperor will decide that."

* * *

"Leonie," Edelgard greeted the young man. "I see you are in good health."

"Edelgard," Leonie greeted as she glared at Byleth, "You've come at a bad time."

"What's happened?" Edelgard asked.

"Your agents have finally done it," Leonie snarled. "Finally you killed Count Gloucester. How does it feel, killing a helpless man in his bed?"

Edelgard narrowed her eyes, "We came here to negotiate his surrender, not to kill him in his sleep. Gloucester County is important to the Adrestian Empire."

"Then why did you put a dagger in his chest?" Leonie asked, her voice filled with rage. "Why did you burn Gloucester Manor down?"

"Enough," Byleth snapped. "Leonie, none of you are making sense. We did not burn down Gloucester Manor, and we did not assassinate Count Gloucester."

Leonie glared at Byleth, her eyes filled with rage as she turned around.

"Felix, hold my sword," Byleth said as he tossed the blade aside.

"Where are you going?" Edelgard asked, her voice tense as Felix caught the sword in his hand.

"I'm going to investigate this crime scene of yours," Byleth said, glaring back at Leonie. "And I want to speak to Lorenz, in person."

"His father has just been murdered by one of your people, and you want to talk to him?" Leonie spat. "What kind of trick are you playing? Do you intend to kill him too?"

"Remember that I was his teacher at the Officer's Academy," Byleth said. "And the fact that he fought alongside the Black Eagles Strike Force for five long years. We would not dishonour him by taking his father's life through assassination."

Leonie wavered for a moment as Byleth stalked forward, her hands clenched around a spear as Edelgard tensed, Aymr wavering.

"I'll be back," Byleth said as he stepped next to Leonie. "And then we can settle this once and for all."

"You do that," Edelgard said as a vice tightened around her heart, Aymr lowered as she stood at the edge of the bridge.

"Let's go then," Byleth said as he turned to Leonie. "We have a murder we need to solve."

* * *

"Hubie, what's going on?" Dorothea asked as she glanced at the bridge. "Did something happen?"

Hubert grimaced as Yuri hurried through the brush, his breathing laboured as he stopped before the group.

"Yurikins, are you alright?" Dorothea asked.

"Fine," Yuri said. "A girl is screaming about how this guy killed Count Gloucester."

Hubert clenched his fists, "Count Gloucester?"

"I heard my name," Yuri said. "I ran. Didn't want to be caught with all those soldiers running around."

Mortis exchanged a glance with Hubert.

"Was the name Yurius?" Mortis asked.

"Sounds about right," Yuri said. "Why, is that-"

"Another Agarthan soldier," Hubert said. "He was the other Agarthan involved with the Kronya incident."

"Wait," Dorothea said. "That Yurius? The one with Monica?"

"Correct," Mortis said. "That's the one."

Hubert nodded, "Mortis, Dorothea, you two stay behind. The rest of you, be ready to move out if there is trouble."

"Why me?" Dorothea asked.

"We need a healer here in the event that we are injured in battle," Hubert said. "Stay in the shadows. Myrddin is still swarming with archers, and I don't want you injured in that fight."

"Right," Dorothea said. "I can do that."

"And you," Hubert said, turning his gaze to Mortis. "We're going to have a long talk when this is over, and you need to be alive for that."

* * *

"Addy, wake up dammit."

Spite opened an eye to glare at his sister, "Aranea, what's going on?"

"Those three bastards you cut loose are back," Aranea replied.

"Are we in danger?" Spite asked, his voice cold as he sat up, taking a moment to acknowledge both Ingrid and Ashe. "Is there something we need to do?"

"No," Aranea said, her voice quiet as Spite moved to glance at the riotous regiment along the grounds of the Gloucester estate.

"They're moving out," Spite observed. "It would appear that they're marching down to Myrddin."

Aranea nodded as she turned her gaze to Ashe and Ingrid, "_So what do we do then?_"

"_Hard to say_," Spite replied. "_It would be cruel to leave them at the mercy of Gloucester's rebels, but we can't have them with us much longer._"

Aranea nodded, "_Alright, so we dump them._"

Spite closed his eyes, "_I believe there is an Imperial Army contingent stationed on the south side of the Airmid River. Should we retrieve Mortis safely, we should leave them in good hands._"

"_They'd need to run through an entire blockade of rebel scum,_" Aranea said.

"_Which is certainly not our problem,_" Spite said as he turned to Ashe and Ingrid. "Come along now, we will be leaving soon."

"Where are we going?" Ingrid asked. "And just what is it that you are saying?"

"If you are fortunate, you will be able to return to the Imperial Army by nightfall," Spite replied, ignoring Ingrid's comment. "Now, come along and be quiet."

* * *

"Lindy?" Lysithea asked as she crouched next to the Crest scholar. "Lindy?"

"Huh?" Linhardt asked, his eyes still closed as he basked in the sun. "Hello Lysithea, come to sleep with me?"

"No," Lysithea said. "There's a package for you."

"Is there?" Linhardt asked, opening his eyes. "That shouldn't be… wait."

"Is something wrong?" Lysithea asked as Linhardt sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes."I didn't think that a package would motivate you."

Linhardt blinked and yawned, "I sent my father a letter asking for books in our libraries, I'm surprised he responded so quickly."

"Your father?" Lysithea asked, her voice surprised. "I thought you didn't care for your title."

"I don't," Linhardt said. "The title means I have to waste time doing things I don't care for. What a pain that is."

"What is it that you care for anyway?" Lysithea asked.

"Sleep, Crest research, more sleep, cake with you," Linhardt said. "Maybe some fishing."

Lysithea nodded as she stepped through a side entrance of the Officer's Academy, "I left the package with Mercedes."

"You did," Mercedes said with a smile. "Still, pardon me if I was too curious."

"What is in the package?" Lysithea asked. "It felt like there were just a few books."

"There were," Mercedes said. "Although I'm not sure of the contents of the book themselves"

Linhardt frowned as he picked out a leatherbound book, his fingers flipping through the pages as he wandered away from Mercedes and Lysithea.

Lysithea giggled as she chased Linhardt into the main hall, "Oh! The messenger is still here!"

"Is that so?" Linhardt asked as he yawned, looking up from the book in his hands. "Who is- what are you doing here?"

The man turned to Linhardt with a nod, "Linhardt, I suspected that you would want these books, though your lack of interest in governance is appalling."

"Father," Linhardt said with a grimace, "What are you doing here?"

"Because I happen to know a great deal of the topic that you have asked about," Count Hevring said, a flash of emotion in his eyes. "And it would be in your benefit to allow me to help you."

"And how did you come about this knowledge?" Linhardt asked, taking a step back from his father. "What did you do?"

"I did not partake in the foul ritual you asked me about," Count Herving said, raising his hands in surrender. "But I was in the palace when the children of Emperor Ionius were stolen away into the dungeons beneath the palace."

"And you did nothing?" Lysithea asked.

Count Hevring looked at Lysithea for a moment, "And what could I do? I stood in a room where every other man would have torn my head from my shoulders had I spoken up. I stood in a room with sorcerers, murderers, and worse. And you ask why I did not speak up?"

Lysithea said nothing as Count Hevring looked at his son, "During the later months of 1174, a broken princess was entrusted to me, and I gave her comfort in those few weeks she lived."

"Father, why is it that you are telling us this?" Linhardt asked.

"Because the man who entrusted her to me was none other than the one you call Adrasteia," Count Herving replied.

Lysithea flinched, her jaw falling as she stared at Count Hevring.

"I see you recognize the name then," Count Hevring said, his voice becoming quiet as he looked upon the books he had brought. "I stole those books from Enbarr's libraries. Every book was one I had seen Adrasteia read. It is for this reason that I suspect I could be of help."

Linhardt trembled as he looked down at the book in his hands, his eyes speeding through page after page as the world around him blurred into the distance.

* * *

**AN:** Chapter 32 is done. Read, Review, yada yada.

The next chapter will end the Burning of Gloucester arc.

Question for readers: A poll has been added to my profile to answer a question about the upload pace. The poll will run for a week or until it hits 50 replies.

Next Chapter:

The sack of Myrddin. Edelgard

A final goodbye. Ignatz

Path of nightmares. Ashe

Reunion of friends. Mortis

Breaking point. Lorenz


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33: The Burning of Gloucester. End.

* * *

"Leonie, just what the hell is going on here?"

"Silence!" Leonie roared at the crowd, her face enraged as she pushed through the group. "Let us through!"

"They're not listening," Byleth observed.

"Bastard," Leonie muttered, pushing her way through a pair of soldiers. "Make way! Make way!"

Byleth winced as Leonie grabbed his wrist, dragging him through the hostile crowd.

"Professor?" Lorenz asked, his voice stunned as Byleth looked down at the noble, his hair disheveled as he looked down at the corpse. "Why are you here?"

Byleth remained silent as he knelt before Count Gloucester, his eyes focused on the knife wound that split the old man's chest open.

"I'm sorry," Byleth whispered, his mind on the final moments of his father. "Who did this?"

"When we reached the room, we found one of your assassins standing over him," a soldier said.

"We did not order his assassination," Byleth shot back, his eyes glaring at the man who had spoken out. "We came here to negotiate an end to this rebellion, not to put a knife through Gloucester's heart."

"And yet your assassin still ran a knife through a helpless old man," the soldier scoffed. "You lot are all cowards."

Leonie clenched her fists as Byleth raised his hand to stop her, "Show me this assassin."

"So what?" another soldier barked. "So you could finish him off before he tells us anything?"

"Do it," Lorenz choked as he raised his eyes to face Byleth, a single tear running down his face. "I- I believe that you'll… find something."

Byleth nodded as a soldier pushed his way through the crowd, his uniform the colours of Gloucester's house guard, "Lorenz, I'm sorry this ended this way."

"Professor?" Lorenz asked as Byleth moved to leave the circle.

"Yes?" Byleth asked, turning back to face Lorenz.

"I-" Lorenz choked out, tears flowing freely from his eyes as he grieved. "I thank you for your words."

Byleth closed his eyes as he moved to the centre of the circle, sliding to one knee as he looked upon the face of Count Gloucester, his fingers brushing the dead man's eyes closed.

"Let's go," Leonie said, her tone uncomfortable as she dragged Byleth away from the circle.

* * *

Edelgard closed her eyes as she shifted from foot to foot, her grip on Aymr like a vice as the various plates of the royal war plate clattered against one another.

"Stop that!" a militia soldier called, hiding behind a flimsy wooden shield.

Edelgard turned to watch the men before her, her mind playing out the various scenarios that could happen if battle broke out.

"Bernadetta, could you get me a drink of water?" Edelgard asked, her eyes meeting the soldier closest to her.

"Bernadetta, do you have your flare ready?" Edelgard whispered to Bernadetta as the girl approached.

Bernadetta's eyes widened, a tiny nod her only reply as Edelgard turned back to the soldiers before her, the water bringing fresh relief to her parched throat.

"Edelgard, may I ask a favour of you?" Seteth called from behind, his presence towering over the huddled shield wall before him.

"Seteth," Edelgard said as the green haired man came closer. "Is something the matter?"

"I- I must beg you to show restraint," Seteth whispered as he reached Edelgard. "Rhea… was vicious when she dealt with problems, and that led to a great deal of bitterness with the families years on."

"I am aware of that," Edelgard said, her gaze focused on a particularly young soldier. "I have no intention of creating another Lonato."

Seteth glanced at the tense soldiers before him before he nodded, hurrying back to Flayn, Indech, and Bernadetta.

* * *

"We'll stop here," Spite said as he led the group into a small copse of trees at the side of the road. "Drink from the stream while you can. We may be without water from this point on."

"You want me to fill your canteen?" Aranea whispered to her brother as she glared at their two captives.

"Only when the two of their canteens are safely in our hands." Spite replied. "We wouldn't want them to try something unwise at this hour."

"What is it that you are saying?" Ingrid asked. "You seem… nervous."

"Just a precaution," Spite said. "In the event we are forced into combat."

"I see," Ingrid said, though her face was unconvinced. "And why is it in Agarthan?"

"A tactical maneuver we practiced in our youth," Spite lied. "Simpler to mention the maneuver itself rather than explain it in full."

Ingrid swallowed as she turned back to Ashe, "Do you want us to fill up your canteens?"

"No-" Aranea started.

"That would be much appreciated," Spite replied as he pulled a small canteen from his belt. "Take a moment to rest, we'll be leaving this wood soon, and it's possible we won't see water again until we reach the Airmid River."

"I see," Ingrid said as Ashe brushed the dirt from his knees. "I suppose we'll just get to it then."

"Be glad," Spite said. "If all goes according to plan, you will be back in friendly hands by nightfall."

* * *

"You're Yurius," Byleth said as he knelt before the pale man slumped before him. "Is that correct?"

"And who are you?" Yurius shot back, his eyes hard as he glared at Leonie.

"My name is Byleth Eisner," Byleth replied, watching a flash of recognition in the other man's eyes. "I have some questions to ask you."

"He's hopeless," Leonie spat. "He's not going to say anything."

Yurius glared at Leonie, "I'll tell you that Mortis isn't your biggest problem right now, but you'll probably laugh at me."

"Ha!" Leonie barked. "Why is that? Did she turn tail and run away?"

"No," Byleth said. "Hubert has his eye on her."

"What-" Leonie said. "Wait… Hubert's here?"

"Yurius, I want to ask you a question," Byleth said, silencing Leonie with a raised hand.

"And what's in it for me?" Yurius asked. "Why should I answer you?"

"Because Monica is back at Garreg Mach," Byleth said. "And she would be worried for you."

Yurius flinched at the name of his lover, his jaw falling as he stared at Byleth.

"You said that Mortis isn't the biggest threat here," Byleth said. "And I understand that. So my question is simple."

"What is the big threat that I mentioned," Yurius guessed.

"I have a hunch," Byleth said. "I just need you to confirm it."

Yurius closed his eyes as he paused for a moment, opening his eyes to glare at Leonie, "I don't want her to know."

"Nuh uh, I'm staying here," Leonie said. "I don't trust you Yurius."

"Is this threat… Adrasteia?" Byleth asked, watching Yurius narrow his eyes in turn.

"Who?" Leonie asked.

"It is," Yurius confirmed, retrieving a scrap of parchment from his pocket. "Count Gloucester was able to write this message for me before she killed him."

"Who killed him?" Byleth asked, his face grim as he read the two bloodstained words.

"Evi," Yurius spat, his voice hard as he clenched his fists. "I should have listened to Mortis and killed her, but no, I was stupid."

"Evi killed Count Gloucester?" Leonie snarled. "I don't believe you."

"You stripped me of all my weapons days ago," Yurius snarled, his voice murderous. "I've been tortured and starved. I've been stripped and beaten. And somehow you think I could hide a dagger on me without detection."

Leonie narrowed her eyes as she turned to Byleth, "What does that message say?"

Byleth handed the strip of parchment to Leonie, her eyes squinting in the poor light, "Lor- Lord Peri-wha?"

"Lord Periander," Yurius said. "The man coming for you, and let me tell you, he's going to be pissed."

Leonie scoffed, "That's just a trick. You're trying to trick us."

"I believe him," Byleth said. "Edelgard has had... contact with this Lord Periander before."

"Wait- WHAT?" Leonie shouted, her jaw hanging low as she stared at Byleth, a accusing finger pointed at Yurius, "You believe him?"

"This… Lord Periander is known to be a powerful sorcerer, and he has a long relationship with both Yurius and Mortis," Byleth explained, turning his gaze back to Yurius. "He was the one who signed off on your… relationship with Monica, wasn't he?"

Yurius nodded, "None of the other Septet would have agreed to it anyhow."

Byleth nodded, "We'll need to follow up on this later. You're coming with us."

"Wait, hold on-" Leonie said, taking a step back. "Don't I get a say in this?"

Byleth grimaced as he helped Yurius to his feet, "We need to find this… Evi."

"That kid?" Leonie laughed. "You think she could have run a knife through a helpless old man?"

"Kronya did," Byleth replied. "Didn't she?"

Leonie stared at Byleth for a moment before she shoved her former teacher back, "Nuh uh. The two of you are going to stay here. We're not just going to let you wander off with this murderer."

"Leonie," Yurius spat. "I did not maim nor did I kill Count Gloucester, and you know it."

"No," Leonie said as she rapped on the door, two burly guards responding to her call. "Neither of you two are leaving."

* * *

Hubert grimaced as the patrol pressed along the road beside them, the squad of infantry loud as they marched by the bushes that Hubert hid in.

"Do you think Chatterbox and Eddy are alright?"

"I'm sure they're fine," Dorothea assured Hapi. "They've got support with them."

"Lady Edelgard and the Professor will be fine," Hubert said. "But keep your eyes out for a flare."

"What do we do then?" Sylvain asked.

"We move forward," Hubert said. A flare means that Lady Edelgard has requested our assistance."

"I don't like the sound of that," Sylvain muttered.

"I don't either," Hubert replied. "Gloucester County has food that we need to feed the refugees camped at the Tailtean Plains."

"Which is why you need the rebellion crushed," Mortis said. "With as few farmers harmed as possible."

"You catch on quickly," Hubert said. "Yes, with the Tailtean Plains being unable to produce food, it is almost certain that the refugees from Fhirdiad will starve when winter hits."

Mortis nodded, her lips pursed.

"You appear to be in deep thought," Hubert said.

"During the Council of Fhirdiad, there was a storehouse in the northwestern quadrant of the city," Mortis said. "I suppose you've looked at that?"

"Where is it?" Sylvain asked, his eyes wide. "Ashe and Ingrid were looking for it for days."

"It's hardly difficult to find-" Mortis started. "Ah, hmm, perhaps it is harder to find since Seiros burned Fhirdiad to the ground."

"What was in this… storehouse?" Hubert asked.

"Flour," Mortis explained, counting off her fingers. "Rice, dried beans and fruits. Seeds as well."

"Once we reach Fhirdiad, you will show us where this… warehouse is," Hubert said.

"As you wish," Mortis said with a shrug. "Still, I cannot promise that it still stands. Fhirdiad's defenders may have emptied it over the course of your siege."

* * *

"Leonie," Edelgard snarled as she glared down the orange haired woman. "Where is Byleth?"

Leonie growled as she planted her spear in the ground, "None of your business."

"I will not ask again," Edelgard hissed. "Where. Is. Byleth?"

"He's in a cell with Yurius," Leonie relented. "Made the excuse that your little assassin wasn't responsible for Count Gloucester's murder."

Edelgard let out a slow hiss, "You will release him immediately."

"Not going to happen," a soldier next to Leonie snapped. "Not until we get justice for Count Gloucester."

Edelgard paused as she closed her eyes, "Bernadetta. Do it."

"Right away!" Bernadetta stammered, pulling an arrow from her quiver.

"What the hell are you doing?" Leonie growled.

"Last chance to stand down," Edelgard warned Leonie, her gaze burning into Leonie. "Don't make me do this."

Leonie growled as she raised her spear, the tip mere inches from Edelgard's face, "You know, I never did forgive you for what you did to Jeralt."

Edelgard clenched her teeth, her grip on Aymr tightened, "Bernadetta. Fire."

"I'm sorry!" Bernadetta shouted as she launched the flaming arrow into the Airmid River.

* * *

"We have contact," Hubert snarled as he leapt from the bush. "Dorothea, keep Mortis safe. The rest of you, on me."

"Right," Sylvain said as he stepped forward, the Lance of Ruin ready. "Let's go."

Ferdinand grimaced as he stepped away from Dorothea, his own spear ready as he took point alongside Sylvain, "And to think that I wasn't even supposed to come here in the first place."

"Be nice Ferdie," Dorothea said. "You were such a gentleman escorting us to Indech."

"Yes, and I only realized it was too crowded on Indech when that wave hit me," Ferdinand grumbled. "Still, such are the burdens of a noble."

"Petra, Hapi, watch our backs," Hubert said, silencing Ferdinand with a glare. "Lady Edelgard calls us to service."

"Where's Yuri-bird?" Hapi asked.

"He's already moving forward," Hubert replied as a rustle in the bushes signified Yuri moving closer to the Gloucester lines. "No fighting until we need to."

"Right," Hapi said. "Shouldn't we bring Tweety or Frostbite along?"

"No," Hubert said. "Now, let's get moving."

* * *

"What have you done?" Leonie snarled as she glared at Edelgard.

"You will return Byleth to me," Edelgard warned Leonie, Aymr pointed at the other woman's heart. "One way or another."

"You think that a threat like that will frighten me?" Leonie growled. "You think I'll let you walk over everyone I cared for?"

"Ambush!" a voice shrieked. "Imperials on the north side of the river!"

"Hubert," Leonie guessed as a portion of the militia turned to reinforce the northern side of the river. "He's here."

"My offer still stands," Edelgard said, her eyes on Leonie's face. "Give-"

Leonie screamed as she leapt at Edelgard, her spear aimed at Edelgard's heart.

Felix growled as he stepped in, his sword clashing against Leonie's lance.

"Felix?" Edelgard asked, surprised.

"You go ahead," Felix snapped. "This fight is mine."

"Oh no you don't!" Leonie shouted, sidestepping Felix to strike at Edelgard as the assembled infantry turned their spears on Edelgard.

Edelgard swore as she dove past the first wave of uncoordinated attacks, Aymr singing as she buried the weapon in the shoulder of a soldier who had failed to raise his shield in time, the weapon causing the man to screech as he clawed at his wound.

"Edelgard!" Felix shouted as he leapt back from Leonie, tossing Byleth's sword over to Edelgard. "Go! Find the professor!"

"Right," Edelgard managed as she darted past the initial line of infantry, her eyes watching the field of battle as she moved forward.

* * *

"We have contact," Yuri gasped as he darted past Sylvain and Ferdinand, the two noblemen taking a moment to pause as Yuri pointed behind him. "Gloucester troops."

"I will negotiate with them," Hubert said as an arrow narrowly missed him, causing him to duck.

"Right," Sylvain muttered. "Doesn't look like that's an option."

"No it is not," Hubert said, unleashing a set of Dark Spikes against the advancing wave, the spears of darkness tearing into the front wave of Gloucester soldiers as Ferdinand and Sylvain moved in for the kill. "Keep pushing. We must reinforce Lady Edelgard!"

"On it," Ferdinand said as he impaled a downed soldier, his face grim as he silenced the screaming man with a single thrust of his spear.

"What happens if we run into Lorenz?" Yuri asked as he caught his breath.

"We'll cross that road once we get there," Hubert announced as he made eye contact with a heavily armored knight. "Banshee!"

"That'll slow him down," Ferdinand observed. "Petra! Fire!"

"Right," Petra said. "Set fire to arrow before shot."

"I- didn't mean that," Ferdinand stammered.

"Just shoot the arrow," Hubert said, his gaze turned back to the unfortunate knight. "And make sure you don't miss."

"Right," Petra said, her aim steady as she fired, the arrow plunging into the man's throat, the knight dropping his lance to commence a frenzied attempt to tear the arrow free from his neck.

"Can we go forward?" Sylvain asked.

"Misama!" Hubert called, summoning an orb of dark magic to blow the staggering knight off his horse. "Let's move."

Sylvain nodded as he hurried forward, his eyes darting to the lifeless form of the knight as he passed the dead man.

* * *

"Sounds like a battle is going on," Yurius observed as he pressed his ear against the door of the cell. "You think they're coming for us?"

Byleth nodded, "I hoped that this could end without violence, but clearly that's not the case."

Yurius sighed as he sat down, "If only I could step in with Count Gloucester."

Byleth paused as he turned to Yurius, "Yurius, could I ask you about this Evi?"

Yurius raised an eyebrow, "Evi… Evi was a bandit that attacked our carriage. She turned and fled from us when we defeated the initial attack."

"What happened then?" Byleth asked, his throat tightening.

"She came back to bury her brother," Yurius explained. "I thought that… maybe we could take care of her."

"Mortis wasn't happy with that," Byleth guessed.

"That's right," Yurius said. "Mortis was furious that I wouldn't kill her."

"I see," Byleth said. "I was told that she wanted Monica dead as well."

Yurius shook his head, "I believe Monica told you about how I was sidelined during the Kronya operation?"

Byleth nodded.

"It was… uncomfortable," Yurius said. "I came to fall in love with someone I realized I would have to kill when the mission ended. Someone who, for the first time ever, I could walk along as a friend and confidant."

Edelgard's face flashed through Byleth's mind, his face blank as he looked away from Yurius.

"You know what I'm talking about, don't you?" Yurius asked.

"I do," Byleth said. "Edelgard was-"

Yurius nodded, "After I left Enbarr, I was cut off from promotions by Spite, and I was locked away in Shambhala for years on end."

"Why did he approve of that?" Byleth asked.

"I couldn't tell you," Yurius said with a shake of his head. "I don't know, even now, why he chose to spare Monica."

Byleth nodded, a comforting hand on Yurius' shoulder.

"I'm rambling now," Yurius muttered, tearing himself away from Byleth. "Sorry."

Byleth paused as he glanced at the door at the other side of the room, "Did you believe Evi might… turn out like Monica?"

"I- I wanted her to be the same, to just be a lost little girl I could help," Yurius said as he shook his head. "I was wrong of course, she was a serpent, lurking in the grass, waiting for me to extend my hand."

Byleth frowned as he heard a distant sound, "Hold on, I hear something."

Yurius shook his head, a deep sigh escaping his lips, "It's probably nothing."

Byleth strained his ears as he rose to his feet, taking a small breath before he spoke.

"El!" Byleth called through the iron bars of the cell. "We're in here!"

"Silence!" a guard shouted. "Do you want to-"

"Oh lord!" the other guard screamed. "Seiros- arggh!"

"No!" the first guard screamed as a red figure laid into him, a glowing axe, covered in blood, descending on his head.

"El," Byleth whispered, his hands on the bars as Edelgard teetered on her toes to reach her consort, her face relieved as she saw Byleth again.

"Professor," Edelgard greeted. "I ask that you step away from this door."

Byleth nodded as he stepped back, waving Yurius away to stand at the side.

Then Aymr slammed through the door, the glowing orange of the blade tearing through the door as Edelgard tore her axe free for another attack, the second blow savaging the door's lock.

"El!" Byleth called, waving Yurius on for help. "We'll take it from here!"

"Right!" Edelgard called back as more voices came.

"Hurry," Byleth said as he stood close to the door, ready to bring his shoulder against the damaged wood.

Yurius nodded, "On three then."

"One," Byleth said.

"Three!" Yurius shouted as both men charged the door, the impact splintering the wood as they staggered back, the damaged door still firm as a spear ran through the damaged frame, blinding poking around, as if looking for Byleth or Yurius.

But the spear flinched as a scream was heard from the other side of the door, the point of the spear rising up as Yurius snatched the weapon from the broken door, grimacing when he realized the shaft was covered with the blood of its previous wielder.

"El!" Byleth shouted. "Are you alright?"

A male scream followed as Yurius moved to tinker with the remaining hinge on the door, though the effort proved redundant as a man crashed through the shattered door, the blood splattered form of Edelgard stalking in after the defeated man, Aymr singing as Edelgard slammed her axe into his chest cavity, silencing the soldier.

"El!" Byleth cried as he rushed forward, his arms wrapped around her as her knees gave out, her breathing laboured as she sank to her knees.

"Professor," Edelgard gasped. "Just a moment, please. Let me catch my breath."

Yurius nodded as he glanced out the door, "There's likely more of them, but I doubt they want to fight much more."

"Good," Edelgard said as she rose to her feet. "We need to move quickly. I've already summoned Hubert's team, but we'll need to link up with him before we make our next move."

Yurius nodded, "I see."

"Adrasteia is in the area," Byleth informed Edelgard as he picked up a sword from a fallen soldier. "He's the one who maimed Count Gloucester."

"He's here?" Edelgard asked, her voice frigid as she handed Byleth his sword, Byleth tossing the fallen soldier's sword aside as he stood up.

"The fires fit his modus operandi," Yurius confirmed. "He sets fires to destroy evidence and to cover his escape."

"He sounds like Mortis it seems," Byleth observed.

"She was his apprentice," Yurius confirmed. "As the saying goes, the apple does not fall far from the tree."

Byleth nodded, "We knew she had a close connection to her, but his apprentice, that's interesting."

"Let me be clear," Yurius said, raising a hand to stop Byleth and Edelgard. "She was his only apprentice. Spite didn't have an apprentice before her, and he hasn't been a mentor to anyone else since."

Edelgard nodded as she glanced down the hall, "Professor, there's three guards at the end of the hallway."

Byleth grimaced as he found the spark in Edelgard's eye, "Stay safe."

Edelgard shook her head, "Stay close behind me. I'm going to charge them."

Yurius nodded as he stepped against the wall, "Should I… dance for them?"

Edelgard paused before she turned to Byleth, "I suppose so. Bait them closer then."

Yurius grinned as he stepped forward, a hand pounding on his chest as he roared down the hallway, his spear planted firm in the stones of the dungeon.

Yurius smirked as footsteps came closer, the man stepping behind the royal duo as Edelgard charged the first guard, the man stunned as Edelgard pinned him to the wall.

As the second guard turned his weapon at Edelgard, Byleth struck, plunging his sword low into his unaware target, the man gasping as Edelgard's shield pinned him to the dungeon wall, leaving Byleth to eliminate him with a precise slash.

The last man screamed as he turned down the hallway, his weapons abandoned as he fled, his frame shuddering as he ran into another figure at the end of the hallway, the man taking a moment to cry out before he scrambled past the figure he had run into, his steps fading into the distance as Byleth hurried after him.

"El," Byleth called as he chased the fleeing guard. "I think you need to see this."

Edelgard frowned as she and Yurius hurried after Byleth. "What's- Ignatz?"

"Sorry," Ignatz said as Byleth helped him to his feet, his hands grasping for his glasses. "I was told that you would be here."

"Ignatz," Yurius said as he hurried forward, Ignatz's glasses in hand.

"Yurius," Ignatz said as he picked up his glasses. "I hope you're alright."

"I didn't stab Count Gloucester," Yurius started. "Evi did. She said she was working for Acheron."

Ignatz grimaced, "I see. We need to find her then."

Edelgard shook her head, "We still need to link up with Hubert. We're at risk of being overrun at this rate."

Yurius exchanged a glance with Ignatz, "If we find Evi, we want to… have a word with her."

Edelgard nodded as she looked at Byleth, "Do you- do you smell something?"

"Smoke," Byleth said, a hand over his mouth. "They're burning the building down!"

"Well, they can't blame Mortis for this one," Yurius scoffed.

"Mortis is here as well," Byleth corrected Yurius.

Yurius clenched his teeth as he placed a hand over his mouth, "If Mortis sets me on fire, I'm haunting her from beyond the grave."

Ignatz nodded as he glanced down the hallway, "Next left is the exit."

Edelgard nodded as she ran forward, her shield held forward as she burst into the smoke-filled air of the late afternoon, the orange sky barely visible.

"El," Byleth choked out as he hurried from the building. "Where is Lorenz?"

Edelgard shook her head as she leaned close to Byleth, "We need to get out of this damn smoke."

Byleth nodded as he placed a hand over his mouth, his eyes darting around the cloud as he jogged toward one side of the bridge.

* * *

"We'll need to fall back!" Seteth called as he brought his spear against Leonie's lance, the two weapons clashing as Seteth glared down Leonie.

"Seteth, you too?" Leonie snarled.

"We did not come here to fight," Seteth replied as he stepped back, his lance held firm in a defensive position. "We came here to settle this matter peacefully."

Leonie growled. "That might have been possible if you didn't use that little witch to burn down the manor."

"Indech," Seteth called. "When was the last time you saw Mortis?"

Indech paused as he lowered his bow, his quiver close to empty. "The Agarthan?"

Leonie narrowed her eyes as she stared at Indech, her lance lowered as Seteth nodded his brother on.

"Last night," Indech said. "She was still with the von Vestra boy at our northern camp."

"Mortis is here?" Leonie hissed. "Where? I'm going to tear her throat out."

"I wouldn't if I were you," Seteth warned. "Mortis had the power to single handedly bring down a demonic beast."

"But she has been silenced, right?" Indech asked.

"I believe so," Seteth said, his eyes narrowing after a pause. "Wait-"

"Cichol?" Indech asked.

"They failed to recast Silence after that first night," Seteth explained, his eyes turned to the northern shore of the Airmid River. "With Edelgard's outburst, they failed to seal her again. There's nothing stopping Mortis from using magic now."

"So you admit it!" Leonie shouted. "She burned down Gloucester Manor then!"

"I do not believe the Arnault girl or the Gautier boy would have allowed her to do so," Indech countered. "And that's assuming it is possible to cross over to Gloucester Manor and back in a single night."

"Dorothea and Sylvain?" Leonie growled. "You came with an entire invasion force!?"

"What's this about an invasion force?" a raspy voice called from within the smoke.

"Lorenz," Leonie whispered, her eyes on the man before her. "Why are you here?"

Lorenz looked at Seteth with sadness in his eyes as Felix glared at the half dozen soldiers standing behind him.

"Is Edelgard or the Professor not here?" Lorenz asked, his voice pained as he glanced behind Felix and Seteth.

"The Professor went forward to speak with your… Yurius," Seteth said. "When Leonie returned without him, Edelgard charged after him."

Lorenz narrowed his eyes as he turned to Leonie, "Is this true?"

Leonie clenched her teeth but nodded after a minute, "Byleth wanted to take Yurius away from us. Said he wasn't the killer."

"Then who was?" Lorenz asked.

"Some guy named Periander," Leonie snapped. "Just a load of bullshit."

"My lord!" a voice called from within the veil of smoke, the voice breaking through a side street as it closed with Lorenz. "An imperial force has broken through our northern line!"

Lorenz paled as he turned to the soldier, "An imperial force?"

"It-it's" the man spluttered, his figure crumpled on the stones as he spluttered a breath. "Hubert von Vestra is leading the assault!"

Lorenz narrowed his head as Leonie turned to the man, her eyes darting back to Indech, "You said that she was with Hubert."

"Who was with Hubert?" Lorenz asked.

"Mortis is," Leonie said, her grip on her lance tightening. "The guy with the bow said it himself."

Lorenz narrowed his eyes as he stormed back through the smoke cloud, Leonie and his bodyguard hot on his heels.

"Seteth," Felix said, his face grim. "Take Bernadetta and Flayn back to camp. Rally whatever soldiers you can."

"What about you?" Seteth asked, his tone worried.

"I'm heading forward," Felix said, exchanging a glance with Indech. "We need to find Edelgard and the Professor."

"We're heading forward," Indech corrected as Bernadetta handed him her remaining arrows. "Let's hope we can end this without more pointless bloodshed."

* * *

"Hubert," Sylvain gasped, his lance snapped in half as he seized a fallen soldier's weapon. "We can't hold this position much longer."

Hubert grimaced as he glanced at the burning town before him, "The smoke from the burning buildings makes it impossible to advance."

Ferdinand nodded, his breathing laboured as he sank to a single knee, "Hapi, are you holding up?"

"Huh?" Hapi asked. "Pompy, did you ask something?"

Ferdinand grimaced, "Right, forget I ever asked anything."

"Wait," Hubert snarled, his body tense as his eyes narrowed. "I see something."

"Huh?" Sylvain asked, his eyes narrowed as he watched the acrid smoke. "I don't see anything."

"Is that-" Ferdinand started as the figure broke through the cloud of smoke.

"Lady Edelgard," Hubert said with a small nod. "Professor- Yurius."

"Good to see you too," Yurius said, hacking as he inhaled a whiff of smoke. "Can we keep moving?"

"Have you encountered any enemies on your way here?" Hubert asked.

"Only corpses to trip over," Edelgard said. "I assume they were your handiwork?"

"We managed to break their first line of defense," Hubert confirmed. "They began to burn the town as we advanced, and it blinded us."

"Almost turned us to cinders," Edelgard said as she stepped free from the cloud of smoke.

"El!" Byleth shouted as he tackled Edelgard, the arrow tearing through the space where her head had been mere moments after she fell to the ground.

"Incoming!" Hubert shouted, hurling a orb of darkness in the vague area behind the assassin. "All forces! Protect Lady Edelgard!"

"I'm fine!" Edelgard shouted over the din as she staggered back to her feet, pushing Byleth behind her as she steadied her shield. "Get to cover while you can!"

"Not happening," Ferdinand said as a burning arrow tore into the dirt beside him. "You either come with us or we stay here."

Edelgard swore as she glanced at the burning arrow, raising her shield as she backed away from the bridge.

"Sylvain, Ferdinand, see to her protection," Hubert barked. "Ignatz, pick up a bow, see if you can pinpoint where they're attacking from."

"I already know," Ignatz said, his face grim. "The western wing is the only part of the bridge not yet burning. They must be attacking from there."

"Can we silence their archers?" Hubert asked as he threw forward another orb of darkness.

"We would have to run through the city," Ignatz said.

"Agree with Ignatz," Petra confirmed. "We would run into the smoke to fight them. Run into fire."

"Forget it then," Hubert growled as a burning arrow struck the bush behind him. "We'll just have to hope we set up camp far away enough from their arrows."

Ignatz nodded as he pinned himself against a tree, an arrow planting itself on the opposite side as he made his escape.

"Bastards are going to set fire to all of the grain at this rate," Hubert snarled as he stamped on a burning bush, his boot smothering the fire as he darted behind the tree line.

* * *

"Mortis?" Dorothea whispered as she glanced around her hiding spot, her body tense as she heard the footstep. "Is that you?"

A rough hand tore through the bush around Dorothea as a scream slipped from her lips, the rough, armoured hand leading to a brutish, vile face.

"Well, look at what we found," the patrolling soldier snarled. "A pretty little woman."

"I'm just a traveller!" Dorothea lied through her teeth, her years of acting experience kicking in as the man looked at her.

"Hey Petruchio, isn't this the dancer you love so much?" another man called as Dorothea felt a spike of fear run through the pit of her stomach.

"Huh, I'll be damned," the third man said, a rough hand running down Dorothea's face. "It's the imperial dancing girl."

"Let me go!" Dorothea cried, the lie forming on her lips. "You have the wrong person!"

The man struck her in response, the blow throwing her to the ground as a boot found her stomach, the remnants of her dinner spilling from her lips as her eyes watered from the pain.

"Oh, wow, imperials really are soft," a distant voice commented as Dorothea clawed at the ground, trying to summon the willpower to launch an attack against the group. "And somehow we lost this damn bridge to them."

"Come on now," a voice snarled as a blow to her stomach broke her focus, "I thought you were a big scary magic user. Why aren't you fighting back?"

"Mortis-" Dorothea croaked, the acrid stench of smoke choking her senses as she reeled from the attack, her vision shifting as her arms gave out, another blow knocking her to her side.

"Now, tell us-" the man started, his sentence cut off with an explosion as a set of screams tore through the rest of the group.

"Die already," a frigid voice snarled as a chorus of screams drowned out Dorothea's world.

* * *

Mortis grimaced as the last soldier threw himself into the Airmid River, the man screaming even as the river tore him away.

"Bastards," Mortis muttered as she brought an arm around Dorothea, pulling the unconscious woman to her feet, "Come on now, Dorothea, just a little more."

"Mortis?" a voice asked. "Are you alright?"

"Sylvain," Mortis said as she looked up at the orange haired knight. "These…animals attacked Dorothea."

Sylvain grimaced as he took Dorothea away, his eyes flashing in rage as he glared at the four dead men, "I see that you've taken care of them."

Mortis nodded, "Why is it that you are back here?"

"Gloucester's men set most of the town aflame to stop us from pushing further," Hubert explained as he arrived. "We're here to regroup while we still can."

"Dorothea!" Ferdinand cried as he rushed forward, tearing the woman away from Sylvain. "Is she alright?"

An arrow landed in the bush behind the group as he spoke, flickers of flame devouring the undergrowth as Hubert swore.

"Mortis, I see that we have forgotten to seal your magic," Hubert observed as he brought his heel against the arrow, snuffing out the burning projectile.

Sylvain flinched and took a step back as Mortis lit a fireball in confirmation, the flame flickering in her hand for a moment before she snuffed the flame out.

"With Dorothea out of the fight, we'll need all the magic we can get," Yuri offered. "We're still sealing you again once we deal with Gloucester's men."

Ferdinand looked pained.

"Ferdinand, Sylvain, your weapons are broken," Hubert said. "You two will act as a rearguard for Dorothea. Ensure nothing happens to her."

Ferdinand looked stunned for a moment before he bowed his head, "I- I thank you Hubert."

"Think nothing of it," Hubert replied. "Ah, here we are."

"Mortis!" Ignatz exclaimed as he tore through the bush. "You- you were here this entire time?"

"She was with me," Hubert interjected, towering over Ignatz. "She never ventured into Gloucester territory."

"We may have to venture deeper into Gloucester territory regardless," Edelgard observed as she stomped on a burning arrow, the wood cracking under her heel as the flame died. "They've stopped the firing, but there's no guarantee they won't find more arrows."

"They might have reinforcements on the way," Ignatz spoke up. "Might be as much as a hundred men."

"Mortis," Yurius greeted his partner, "I'm glad to see you're alright."

Mortis nodded at her partner, her face turning into a frown as she glanced at the bridge, "May I ask why there's an imperial banner on the bridge?"

"What?" Edelgard asked, turning on her heel. "There… really is an imperial banner there."

"Lorenz has a lot of men," Byleth offered. "But certainly not enough to assault the camp."

"And certainly not enough to take no less than two battalion standards," Hubert observed. "Ah, it's three now."

"Then the bridge is in imperial hands," Byleth concluded. "Let's move quickly while we still can. Perhaps we can have Lorenz see reason."

* * *

Lorenz swore as he choked in a gasp of the ash-laden air, fanning the air as he staggered away from the advancing imperial line.

"Lorenz!" a voice shouted from behind him. "Let us talk this out!"

"Count," a soldier said as he ran forward. "We have hidden your father amongst the dead. Once we relieve this siege, we can get to burying him."

Lorenz swallowed as he turned to the captain of his father's bodyguard regiment, "Who was it that set the fires?"

The man shook his head as he hurried forward.

"We have no idea," another soldier managed to choke out. "It must have been our northern wing when they were falling back."

Lorenz grimaced as he waved his forces forward.

"Shouldn't burn for much longer," the captain of the guard said. "Old buildings are running out of fuel."

Lorenz grimaced as he pushed free from the smoke blinking as he saw the violet of the early evening sky, "It is still a shame. These buildings are still the hard work of our ancestors."

"Yours, my lord," the captain countered. "I was born in Goneril territory."

Lorenz shook his head as he turned back to the burning town, "And it is only by our combined efforts that the town has survived as long as it has."

"The smoke is letting up," a soldier called out as a strong gust of wind battered the bodyguard regiment. "It's- it's really bad."

"What?" Lorenz asked as he tore his gaze away from the night sky, his eyes taking a moment to take in the scene of carnage before him.

"Looks like they attempted a fighting retreat sir," the captain muttered.

"Where are our archers?" Leonie spluttered as Lorenz stared at the corpses littering the ground, his weapon clattering to the ground as he recognized faces amongst the dead.

"We have sight of the archers!" a soldier called, his voice hard.

"Where are they?" Leonie asked, a note of hope in her voice.

"Prisoners," the man choked out, a trembling finger pointed at a convoy marching along the bridge. "The Saurin division has been… wiped out."

"No!" Leonie shouted, her grip on her spear tight, "No! No! No!"

"Count, we have company," the captain of the guard muttered, tearing Lorenz away from the nightmare before him. "It- it's the emperor."

Lorenz swallowed as he turned to face Edelgard, his face hardening as he saw Mortis and Yurius among the assembled strike force.

* * *

"Mortis, Evi is dead," Yurius said as their party moved closer to Lorenz.

"Good," Mortis shot back. "Only two weeks late."

"Enough," Hubert hissed as Edelgard turned to Lorenz, the pair of leaders watching each other as they stood in silence.

"Count Gloucester," Edelgard started. "I offer you a chance to end this rebellion without further bloodshed. All I ask in turn is that you put your weapons down and return what has been stolen to their rightful owners."

Lorenz grimaced as he turned to the bridge, his hands clenched as he watched the broken remnants of his father's army, "I- I ask that their lives be spared."

"We will not harm those who have fought along you," Edelgard said, her eyes burrowing into the eyes of Lorenz. "You are all subjects of the Adrestian Empire. Here, today, and in the future. There is no reason for me to harm your people."

Lorenz closed his eyes, "I- I demand my father's body is respected."

"I have no quarrel with the dead," Edelgard replied. "And should Gloucester County fulfil their tithes, I will have no quarrel with your leadership, Count Gloucester."

Lorenz felt a tear slide from his face as he turned to glare at Yurius, "I- I want justice for my father's murder."

"You will get it," Edelgard said as she turned to Byleth. "But you are glaring at an innocent man."

"Innocent?" Lorenz snarled. "What do you mean by that?"

"Ignatz, you know who she is," Yurius said as he turned to the younger man. "The dagger should still be on her corpse."

"Right," Ignatz said, hurrying to the lifeless body, still sprawled on the bridge, his hands shaking as he closed the dead girl's eyes, his face grim as he tore a bloodstained knife from her lifeless hands.

"Is that the weapon you seek?" Edelgard asked as Lorenz took the blade from Ignatz, his eyes burning with hate as he glared down the dead girl.

"Captain?" Lorenz asked, turning to the warrior next to him. "Is- is this the dagger?"

"It matches the wound," the soldier admitted after a long pause. "I- I believe this is the murder weapon."

"But your witch burned the Count in the first place!" a voice shouted. "She must pay for that!"

"Enough!" Hubert shouted over the man, his finger pointing to a hilltop. "I stood by Mortis for the last two days. She never passed that hill."

Lorenz swallowed as he exchanged a glance with Leonie, "Hubert, look me in the eye when you say that."

"So be it," Hubert replied. "Mortis never crossed that hill to the north. She did not maim your father. Not today, not before."

Lorenz swallowed as he turned back to the hill, his eyes watching as a wave of soldiers marched over the hill, their armour mismatched as they proceeded toward the two parties.

"Looks like it's our reinforcements," the guard captain muttered, his hand reaching for his sword. "Count, what are your orders?"

"I-" Lorenz whispered, a dozen scenarios filling his mind, each more dishonourable than the last.

"Soldiers!" the lead soldier from the new regiment shouted as he raised his spear. "Protect Lorenz!"

"No!" Lorenz cried out, rushing at the group. "Stop this madness!"

"Take cover!" Hubert shouted as a distant light flickered from the skies above.

Byleth tackled Edelgard as she froze in place, the royal couple crashing into the bridge as the attack landed.

And then the assembled militia disappeared in a storm of fire.

* * *

Lorenz gasped as he crawled to his feet, his eyes watering as he staggered up.

"Count," the captain of the guard choked out. "Have- have we enraged the goddess?"

Lorenz choked as he staggered back, his eyes watching as a soldier fell to his knees, his hands clawing at his throat as his face turned gray, the man's corpse still standing for a moment before he plunged to the ground.

"What hell have we unleashed?" a voice asked. "What hell have we unleashed?"

"A preventable one," a voice called from behind the crowd of carnage. "Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, did you not receive my ultimatum?"

"Who are you?" Lorenz asked as the crimson haired man stepped from the crowd of smoke, his pale robes a mockery of the burning corpses around him.

"My name is Periander," the man replied as he stopped before a dying soldier, his eyes observing the dying man before him. "And I have come for my agents."

"Adrasteia," Hubert growled as he staggered to his feet. "It was you."

"Hubert von Vestra," the man said as he turned around, an eyebrow raised as he nodded to Mortis and Yurius. "I see you have made yourself familiar with my agents. Please, refer to me as Spite."

"Enough," Edelgard snarled as she rose to her feet, Aymr pointed at the sorcerer. "What is it that you have come here for?"

"Edelgard von Hresvelg," Spite said, his tone even. "I come here to… bargain for the return of my agents."

"And what do you have to offer me?" Edelgard asked. "Why should I not strike you down where you stand?"

Spite ignored Edelgard as he turned back to the smoke, his eyes watching the smoke as he seemed to ponder the question.

"Lord Ubert, I thought I told you to hold your breath," the man called into the crowd of smoke. "I may have dispelled the mire, but the smoke is harmful to your health nonetheless."

"Ashe?" Felix muttered, his face stunned as the silver haired knight staggered from the deathly fog, two shaky hands pressed over his nose and lips. "Where did you find Ashe?"

"Does it matter, Felix Hugo Fraldarius?" the man replied. "I propose a one for one trade. One of my agents for one of yours."

"Did you maim my father?" Lorenz asked, his voice hard.

"I did," the man said, his gaze turned to Lorenz as he unleashed fire from his hands, a powerful flame roaring from each finger. "I torched his prize stables and his manor for… abducting my agents."

Lorenz clenched his fists as he turned to Edelgard, "I- I must ask you for the sake of justice-"

Spite laughed in response, the sound bitter and hollow, "You would call upon the enemies you had just been fighting to arrest me?"

Lorenz clenched his teeth as Spite continued.

"I must ask you then, Lord Gloucester," Spite said, his gaze boring into Lorenz. "In the event I do not go quietly, do you truly intend to invoke combat against me? Will you throw the lives of your pitiful few followers away for the sake of this so called justice?"

Lorenz growled as he took a sword from a nearby soldier, his eyes burning as he stared down the sorcerer.

"I could strike down any one of you with a flick of the wrist," Spite continued. "Are you truly willing to pay that price, just to reach me?"

Lorenz glared at the man as he marched forward, "For my people, I will carry any burden, and I will pay that price gladly."

"And what if I set your precious wheat fields on fire?" the man asked, a sardonic grin spreading across his face. "How will you explain that to your people? Is the unlikely chance to avenge one dead man worth watching your people starve this winter? Is it worth a season of mourning mothers burying their children?"

Lorenz flinched as his gaze fell along the rolling wheat fields, the sword in his hand clattering to the ground.

"I see you have reached the same answer as I," Spite said as he turned to Edelgard, his tone serious as he paced between the three groups. "With that being said, I have no desire to starve your people. Should you agree to my trade, I will leave this place in peace. There will be no more death in this place today."

Edelgard swallowed as she closed her eyes, opening her eyes a moment later, "Hubert, do it."

"Lady Edelgard!" Hubert cried. "There must-"

"There is no other way, Hubert von Vestra," Spite said. "Do not force me to become a monster. Do not force my hand, for I have no vendetta against the people of Gloucester or Fhirdiad, nor do I wish to create one needlessly."

"Hubert," Edelgard said, her teeth gritted. "Make the trade."

Hubert swallowed before he stepped aside, Yurius handing Ferdinand his spear as he and Mortis walked forward, Mortis giving Sylvain and Ignatz each a nod as she walked alongside Spite.

"The pact is sealed," Spite said. "I thank you for agreeing to it."

"Silence!" Yuri shouted, the attack slamming into the sorcerer as Leonie charged forward, a spear aimed at Spite's back.

"Leonie Pinelli," Spite observed

"Yuri Louis Paris, I believe your name is," Spite said, his voice amused as Yuri almost fell over, stunned at the mention of his real name. "I would advise against attempting to seal any of the Septet. Few of my peers would react to such an attempt without violent retaliation."

"Regardless," Hubert said, striding forward with a small smirk on his face. "You cannot escape."

Spite smiled at the comment, a sardonic look in his eyes, "I disagree with that statement, for we must take our leave."

"What?" Edelgard spluttered, her eyes narrowing as magic surrounded the three Agarthans.

"It is our time to go," Spite said as the magic reached its crescendo. "Dearest Cornelia sends her regards."

And then the three Agarthans disappeared, the unmistakable presence of teleportation magic in the air.

* * *

**AN**: Longest chapter I've ever done (7620 words before editing). For the future: I can promise at least three larger battles in the future of this story.

Battle 1: _Alea Iacta Est._

Battle 2: _Dies Irae._

Battle 3: _Memento Mori. _

Next chapter: **Vae Victis, part 1. **

Consequences and Diversions- Spite

Nameless One- Dorothea

Figurative Chains- Tiana

Prayer for the dead- Mercedes

Rites of Awakening- Thales

Read, Review, Follow,** Answer the Damn Poll. **etc.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34: Vae Victis, Part 1.

* * *

"Ingrid," Edelgard said as she turned to the disheveled knight. "I see you have met Adrasteia."

"I-" Ingrid started, her hands clasped behind her back as she looked down, unwilling to meet Edelgard's eyes. "I'm sorry that you had to trade me for-"

"I am glad that you are safe," Edelgard replied. "Rest assured, we will engage Adrasteia again."

Ingrid swallowed as she looked back to the hill leading into Gloucester territory, "He- he used some form of gateway to transport us here."

Edelgard nodded her head as she frowned, exchanging a glance with Hubert.

"I believe there may be mounts we can borrow from the camp at the south side of the bridge," Hubert confirmed. "If we are quick, we could intercept Adrasteia before he escapes."

Edelgard shook her head, "Adrasteia's threat still stands. If we were to engage him in open combat, the resulting fallout is likely to result in starvation in the camp at the Tailtean Plains. A battle within Gloucester territory will only lead to disaster."

"So we just let him go then?" Lorenz asked.

"Lorenz, I bear the same burden as you do," Edelgard reminded the other man. "I answer to all of this empire's citizens, from Fhirdiad to Gloucester. From Goneril to Enbarr. To starve my subjects for even the slimmest prospects of a capture is not a trade I am willing to accept."

"I see," Lorenz said as he turned away, his features blank. "Pardon me then."

"Hubert," Edelgard said as she turned around, her eyes boring into her attendant. "Do explain to us how Adrasteia was able to cut through an entire unit of men in minutes?"

"Mire," Hubert explained, moving to gesture at the scene of carnage. "He summoned the ash from the burning town and forest and concentrated it against the concentrated unit of soldiers. With their heavy armour and tight formation, I'm afraid they were doomed from the onset."

"To think that such a... basic spell could be used to such effect," Byleth observed, his face disgusted.

"That is true," Hubert said. "Still, this is merely a case of great misfortune. I do not believe Mire could ever be used again to such effect."

"Cold comfort," Lorenz said, his voice tight as he looked upon the dead men in the mud. "Pardon me, I must go and identify the dead for burial."

Leonie swallowed as she turned away, "I- Saurin Village lost a lot of people in this fight, and I need to bury them."

"If you desire it, we will remain at your side," Edelgard offered. "See that things are… smoothed over for your rule."

Lorenz shook his head, tears in his eyes as he turned away, "I- I wish only to grieve alone."

Edelgard closed her eyes as she waved the rest of the group back over the shattered remnants of Myrddin, their steps quiet against the ash coated cobblestones.

* * *

"Will Lady Cornelia be alright?" Yurius asked Spite as he stepped into the barn where the sorcerer stood.

Spite frowned as he pressed a finger to his lips, gesturing to the unconscious family sprawled on the ground, their hands and ankles bound.

"Sorry," Yurius whispered, turning around as he placed his hands against his back.

"There is no need to apologize," Spite replied as he stepped from the barn. "I did not wish to wake our… unwitting hosts."

"Is-" Yurius started, his sentence cut short as Spite raised a hand to stop him.

"My sister exhausted herself today," Spite said as the two men walked toward the main house. "Still, I believe she will be in good health come daybreak."

"I see," Yurius said. "I- I'm glad to see you here."

"Ah," Spite said as he reached the main house. "I never did get to inform you, did I?"

"Pardon?" Yurius asked.

"Thales has been found," Spite said. "He was the one who cast the ritual to bring my dear sister back from Zaharas."

"I- I see," Yurius said. "I want to tell you about-"

"I already know," Spite replied. "Kronya was murdered by Solon. The two hostages I exchanged you for were present when the entire mess went down."

"We- we found out from Leonie," Yurius said. "She revealed the name of Zaharas when she was drunk. That's what made us know it was true."

Spite nodded, "As with the two hostages. Still, it is old news to me."

"Where did you find the two of them anyways?" Mortis asked, her arms still crossed against her midsection as she looked at the two men.

"The two of them came to scout Conand Tower," Spite said. "They were ambushed by a defensive patrol I had set up."

"Conand?" Yurius asked.

"We had a battlegroup under Bias there," Spite explained. "Massacred by Macuil."

Yurius flinched, "How many men?"

"We found no survivors," Spite said as he sipped the tea Mortis had prepared. "Solon relieved me of my command about a day after I arrived. Sent me to find the two of you."

"Solon?" Yurius asked. "That- that Solon?"

"Correct," Spite said, taking a sip of his tea. "An unfortunate side effect of Aranea's return."

"Should I still refer to her as Lady Cornelia?" Yurius asked.

"Pittacus," Spite said. "She was raised in rank upon the death of her predecessor."

"Pittacus is dead too?" Yurius asked.

"Our attempts at killing the Four Saints were too hasty," Spite admitted. "Had both task forces arrived as a single unit, supported by Titanus machines, I see no reason they could not bring down the two Nabateans. Instead, as I understand it, they were both slaughtered by the Saints."

Yurius nodded as he turned his gaze to Mortis, "Are you alright?"

Mortis brought up her bare legs to her chin, her arms wrapped around her legs as she stared into her tea.

"Mortis," Spite said.

"Spite?" Mortis asked, jumping from her seat as she snapped out of her reverie. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking for a second."

"Put your boots on," Spite said. "There is no reason to relax until we have reached Zaharas."

"Right," Mortis said, taking a moment to slip on her boots, "Sorry, there are things on my mind."

"I see," Spite said. "I believe you may be up for a promotion into the ranks of the Septet."

Mortis paused, one leg still bare as she turned to Spite, her fingers dropping the sock in her hands as she stared at her mentor.

"With the death of Bias," Spite said. "There is indeed an opening in the Septet, and you are by far the most qualified candidate to take the role."

"Who else is in the running?" Yurius asked.

"Odesse," Spite sneered.

Yurius laughed at the comment as Mortis turned back to Spite, "Me?"

"You have the arcane talents needed," Spite offered. "You have no enemies amongst the six to oppose your nomination."

"Not even Solon?" Mortis asked.

"He does not have the political backing to deny your spot, nor does he suspect your role within the... plot," Spite said as he sat back into his seat. "Myson on the other hand, values efficiency over all else, and Odesse is simply too inexperienced to be handed the responsibility of being one of the seven."

Mortis nodded as she yawned, her tea finished, "I- I'm going to sleep now,"

Spite nodded as he turned to Yurius, "Would you like first shift at night or second?"

"I'll take first," Yurius admitted after a moment. "If that's alright with you."

Spite nodded as Yurius and Mortis left the kitchen.

* * *

"So, one of the Septet," Yurius said as he walked Mortis to the stairs at the front of the house.

Mortis grimaced as she leaned against the front door, her ankles crossed as she settled her arms around her midsection.

"You're nervous," Yurius said.

"I am," Mortis said. "I- I'd never think I would be an equal to Spite or Aranea."

"Could I ask you something?" Yurius asked.

"Monica," Mortis guessed, taking a moment to confirm the look in Yurius' eyes.

"Did you see her?" Yurius asked, turning his gaze back to the closed door that led to Spite.

"Only for a few minutes," Mortis admitted. "I spent my time at Garreg Mach under heavy guard. Never got to talk to Monica. Sorry."

"They captured you?" Yurius asked.

Mortis sighed as she closed her eyes, "I managed to slip past the initial imperial cordon at Myrddin. Helps when Maya's brother is a member of the Black Eagle Strike Force."

"And then what?"

"I broke ahead of Maya. I intended to switch horses at Garreg Mach, ride north to Arianrhod and open a portal to Zaharas before anyone was the wiser."

"But you didn't," Spite said. "I presume something happened?"

"Maurice," Mortis said after a minute of silence, her eyes closed as she admitted the truth.

Spite raised an eyebrow at the name, "My information states that Maurice frequented the forests south of Garreg Mach, where he first turned."

"One of the Crest… things killed my horse," Mortis said. "Then more of its friends showed up."

"I see," Spite said. "And in the ensuring fight-"

"I was chased through the forest," Mortis said. "Ran into the enemy fighting Maurice. Even got the killing blow off too."

Spite raised an eyebrow, "And so Maurice is finally dead?"

"He is," Mortis said. "His sword was taken by Marianne."

"I'm sorry- who?" Yurius asked.

"Marianne von Edmund," Spite said. "Adopted daughter of Marquis Edmund and the wielder of Maurice's Crest."

"Ah," Yurius said. "I'm going to head on my patrol then."

Spite nodded, "I will leave you to it then."

* * *

"Were you hurt in the engagement?" Spite asked when the door shut.

Mortis shook her head, "A few minor scratches, but I was looked after by the Black Eagles Strike Force at Garreg Mach."

"I see," Spite said. "You followed them until I intervened then."

"I did," Mortis confirmed as Spite stepped back, his hands tracing his beard. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"I am not blaming you," Spite responded. "Still, I must ask you an important question."

"What is that?" Mortis asked, her tone tense.

"Did the topic of Shambhala's location ever come up?" Spite asked.

Mortis shook her head, "Never. They asked me about Shangri-la, but I told them the truth."

"That you have no idea where it is," Spite finished. "Very good."

Mortis nodded as she yawned.

"I'll let you get to sleep," Spite said. "We should leave when my sister has awakened."

Mortis nodded as she climbed the steps to the second floor of the farmhouse.

* * *

"El," Byleth said as he joined Edelgard on the bridge, the royal couple standing in silence as Edelgard turned to Byleth.

"I suppose you couldn't sleep either," Byleth said, his gaze turned to the river rushing below.

"It's not that I can't sleep," Edelgard said. "I- I just have too much to think about."

Byleth nodded as he leaned against the stone wall of the bridge, planting a gentle kiss on Edelgard's forehead, the royal couple embracing as Edelgard sank into Byleth.

"To think that we had Mortis with us for those few days," Edelgard started.

"It wasn't your fault," Byleth reminded Edelgard.

"What if I had controlled myself?" Edelgard asked. "What secrets could we have torn from Mortis in those hours she was asleep?"

Byleth remained silent, though his grip on Edelgard tightened.

Edelgard sighed as she responded to the embrace, her arms around Byleth.

"I forgot something today," Edelgard said, her tone bitter. "Something important."

"Could I help refresh your memory?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard shook her head as she pulled her gaze away from Byleth, "I forgot what my mother looked like."

Byleth said nothing.

"After- after the experiments," Edelgard said. "I found out that Adrasteia personally destroyed every painting in Enbarr of my mother. Not even a single one remains."

Byleth swallowed as he turned his gaze to Edelgard.

"For so many years, I only had my memories," Edelgard said. "But even those have faded with time."

Byleth nodded.

"I would always remember the feeling of her hand," Edelgard said as she turned away from the bridge. "The sound of her voice. Those little cakes we had in Enbarr."

Byleth smiled at that, his mind wandering to the night festival they had attended.

"But not her face," Edelgard said. "Even now, I can't bring myself to remember her face."

Byleth paused as he brought his arms around Edelgard's shoulders, his body against Edelgard's, "I'm sorry."

"And yet," Edelgard whispered. "With Adrasteia stepping from that tempest of death, I cannot erase his face from my mind. When I close my eyes, I still cannot help but remember his face."

Byleth stood silent, his face stoic as his embrace tightened.

"Byleth-" Edelgard started, her tone hesitant. "Byleth, may I ask you for something?"

"Anything," Byleth said.

"Hold me tonight," Edelgard said. "Just this night."

"Not just tonight," Byleth chided, his voice gentle as he leaned toward Edelgard's right ear. "I'll hold you every night you want me to."

Edelgard closed her eyes as Byleth lifted her up, her face nuzzled against his as he placed an arm under her knees.

When Byleth reached their tent, Edelgard had slipped into a blissful sleep, her arm limp as he tucked her into the small bed they had been afforded.

"Why do I feel like Hubert had a hand in this?" Byleth asked as he inched next to Edelgard, planting a kiss on her nose as he closed his eyes, his arms wrapped around his beloved.

* * *

"Hubie?" Dorothea asked as Hubert turned around.

"Dorothea," Hubert said, his voice even as he sipped from a cup of tea. "I see you have awoken."

"I-" Dorothea started, falling silent as Hubert raised a hand, rising to his feet as he moved to watch the rising sun.

"The men who attacked you are dead," Hubert said after a moment of mutual silence. "Mortis struck them down."

"Mortis?" Dorothea whispered. "Is she alright?"

Hubert grimaced at the question, "We confronted Lorenz shortly after you lost consciousness, but we were interrupted."

"No," Dorothea gasped, her eyes narrowed as she stared at Hubert.

"Adrasteia came for her," Hubert said. "He presented us with an offer we simply could not refuse."

"She's- she's gone," Dorothea whispered.

"She is," Hubert said. "The same with were warped out before we could attempt to stop them."

"Warp? Dorothea asked. "Who could do that?"

Hubert grimaced, "Adrasteia mentioned Cornelia."

"We killed her," Dorothea protested. "How- how is it that she's still alive?"

"That is a question we do not know the answer to," Hubert said. "However, I do presume Mortis to be alive."

"I see," Dorothea said as Hubert sat back down. "What do we do then?"

"We will wait for Ashe and Ingrid to make their report before we move in on Conand Tower," Hubert said as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Ashe and Ingrid?" Dorothea asked. "Were they-"

"Indeed," Hubert said, his eyes turned up to Dorothea. "Their freedom in return for Mortis and Yurius. Like I said before, it was an offer we could not refuse."

* * *

"How has our unwelcome guest fared?" Thales asked as he cut into a piece of bread, the staff room of Shambhala silent except the sound of forks on plates.

"Poor," Chilon said. "She spends a great deal of time moaning to my men. It has become rather tedious to even enter the room."

"Use the threat of Periander over her if you must," Thales said. "Threaten her with a painful death at his hands if she does not comply with your orders."

"Is this a true threat that will be acted upon?" Chilon asked.

"Periander is a useful agent for us," Thales said. "Her life is worth nothing in comparison. Inform her that he will return soon, and that it would be unwise for her to displease me until then."

"Should we be concerned that Lord Solon is behind schedule?" Chilon asked.

"Perhaps not," Thales said. "Periander set out with a small, inexperienced force to harvest up to three hundred dead bodies. It is very possible that the secondary expedition Periander was sent on deprived the primary group of the experience the harvesting units needed."

"I understand." Chilon said.

"Chilon," Thales said as he rose to his feet. "Under no circumstances am I to be interrupted today. Have I made myself clear?"

"I understand," Chilon said, his own food finished. "May I ask why?"

"I will be awakening our remaining Titanus units," Thales said. "With both Bias and Periander unavailable, it falls to me to bring the units online."

"Will we leave soon?" Chilon asked.

"We will," Thales said. "Once Solon or Periander returns, we will march upon Fhirdiad."

* * *

"Mercedes, was it?"

"You must be Linhardt's father," Mercedes greeted the man. "Have you come to pray?"

"I have," Count Hevring said as he stood next to Mercedes, his hands firmly clasped before him.

"Is there any particular reason you have come here today?" Mercedes asked.

Count Hevring paused at the words, his hands tight as he looked upon the ruined room around him, "No. Nothing in particular."

Mercedes nodded as she turned to the bright room around her, the two standing in silence as Count Hevring shifted from foot to foot.

"You seem distressed," Mercedes observed as she turned to Count Hevring.

"Have I disturbed your prayer?" Count Hevring asked, his tone surprised. "I do apologize."

"No," Mercedes said as she shook her head. "My prayers for this morning have been complete."

Count Hevring nodded as he turned away, "It has been many years since a prayer of mine has been answered. Many long years."

Mercedes paused as she closed her eyes, "I cannot say for sure, but I am thankful for all I have in this life. The Goddess has given us all something to be thankful for."

"I wish that was true," Count Hevring laughed, his voice bitter as he turned away from Mercedes, his hands clasped behind his back as he stepped away from the chapel.

"May I ask you about that?" Mercedes called after the older man. "If you are willing to share."

Count Hevring paused for a moment before he turned back to Mercedes.

"I'm sorry," Count Hevring said as he turned his gaze to Mercedes, his eyes lingering on her face for a moment. "She looked like you in many ways."

"I'm not sure I understand," Mercedes said as she stepped toward the older man.

"Elena," Count Hevring said. "Her name was Elena, youngest princess of the Adrestian Empire."

Mercedes said nothing as Count Hevring paced along the ground of the chapel, his hands clasped behind his back.

"It was the fall of 1174 when Adrasteia summoned me to the dungeons of the Imperial Palace," Count Hevring started, his face pained as he recounted the memory. "Princess Elena, six years old at the time, had undergone the same… experiments as the others."

Mercedes placed a hand over her mouth as she took a step back from Count Hevring.

"The process, for lack of a better term, had broken Elena. She no longer spoke or had any control of her body. Even Adrasteia himself saw no point in torturing her further."

Count Hevring stopped for a moment before he turned to Mercedes, "I cannot say how many of us prayed for a miracle, to have an innocent child return to some form of health, none more so than her father."

"But that was not to be, was it?" Mercedes asked.

"I was there when Ionius was informed that she had taken her last breath," Count Hevring said. "He had spent two days on his knees, begging the Goddess to save his child, all for naught."

"I am sorry for that," Mercedes said.

"When… when I agreed to the Insurrection, I wanted Ionius to lose the power he had taken from my ancestors," Count Hevring admitted, his head bowed in shame. "But I could never imagine him losing his children, not like that."

Mercedes said nothing as Count Hevring trailed off, his face buried in his hands as he slumped over in a pew.

"May I ask you for something?" Count Hevring asked after a moment of silence.

"Is there something I can do to ease your pain?" Mercedes asked.

"Not for me," Count Hevring said, his voice low. "I ask that you include a prayer for Elena and Ionius. That they are in a better place today."

"I can do that," Mercedes said. "But that is something you should also ask the Goddess for yourself."

Count Hevring shook his head as he rose from the pew, a look of sorrow on his face, "I am sorry, but I cannot do that. The Goddess has forsaken me."

* * *

"Are we ready to leave?" Spite asked as he stepped from the farmhouse.

"You'll never get away with this!" the old woman shouted as she staggered up. "The Count-"

"Your precious Count is dead," Spite said, gesturing for Yurius to lead the first horse out of the barn. "He will not come to save you."

"Addy, why did you let those animals out again?"

"_Distraction,_" Spite muttered. "_They will see us leave for the northern gateway-_"

"_But we're really heading for the gateway east of here,_" Aranea said. "_Clever._"

"_If the enemy intends to hunt us, they will waste precious time hunting phantoms,_" Spite reasoned. "_Time we will put to good use._"

"The horse is ready," Yurius said.

"Mortis, take… Cornelia and wait for us two intersections to the north," Spite ordered. "Yurius and I will follow suit once our work here is done."

"Right," Aranea scoffed as she climbed on the horse after Mortis. "Let's get this over with."

"Yurius," Spite barked as Mortis rode out of sight. "Prepare the horse. I will… set a diversion."

"Boss?" Yurius asked as he watched Spite light a fireball. "What are you doing?"

"Setting a diversion," Spite replied, a ball of fire at his fingertips. "If all the neighbours are trying to put out a house fire, they won't be trying to chase after us now, will they?"

* * *

"Lady Edelgard, we have trouble," Hubert started as he approached the royal couple.

"Hubert," Edelgard said, her face a grimace. "What seems to have happened?"

"There's been a fire deep in Gloucester territory," Hubert said. "Just south of Gloucester Manor."

Edelgard grimaced as she turned to Byleth, "Take whatever water you can find. The crop yields are to not be harmed."

"I've already dispatched Yuri and Hapi to the scene, but the location of the fire is a significant distance from our position."

"Then you've done all you could," Edelgard said as she mounted a nearby horse. "Come along now. We must survey the damage."

* * *

"So, this is where you grew up," Tiana observed as she followed Holst. "Who knew that little Piggy would come to lord over so much?"

"Lady Tiana," Count Galatea warned. "I would ask for some more respect than what you have shown thus far."

"Mom-" Claude started.

"Do not lecture me about respect," Tiana said, her tone serious. "You have shown me none, and yet you expect respect in turn?"

"So what would gain your respect then, Lady Tiana?" Holst asked from the front of the convoy. "What are we to do?"

"House Daphnel has no shortage of oranges at this time of the year," Tiana said. "One orange for every sailor aboard our ship."

"Oranges?" Holst asked. "Why would you need that?"

"Scurvy," Count Galatea replied. "Is that correct?"

"Ah," Holst said. "I will send a messenger over in the morning."

Tiana scrowled as Count Galatea grimaced, gesturing for a set of guards to come forward, taking a step away from the main party as the two men nodded.

"Lady Tiana, we will provide your sailors with pine tea until the fruit can be delivered," Count Galatea said. "In turn, we request your full cooperation on the matter of the massacre at Conand Tower."

"We had nothing to do with that," Tiana snarled as Count Galatea turned to the woman, his face grim as he nodded.

"From the fact that the vast majority of your forces had yet to make landfall, I believe you," Count Galatea said. "That being said, you did indeed take a handful of these… mysterious soldiers prisoner, and our guards have noted a skirmish within the forest that has seen a surprising amount of death, perpetrated by your hand."

"I don't deny that," Tiana said. "Still, that… mass of corpses, no, we had nothing to do with it."

Count Galatea nodded as he undid the lock binding Tiana's wrists together, "Then I ask for you to help us with this case."

Tiana rubbed her sore wrists in response as Holst spoke up, "We have only a single set of messengers. Is there any place you want them?"

"Enbarr would certainly be notified," Count Galatea said, his face tight as he turned to Tiana. "Still, both Myrddin and Garreg Mach are closer and could provide more immediate support."

Holst nodded, "I believe Myrddin would be the closer option of the two, with the additional support of House Gloucester."

"Yes," Count Galatea said. "You would be correct on that. I suspect the people of Charon would be… less helpful than House Gloucester."

"Do I give the order then?" Holst asked.

"Do it," Count Galatea said. "Send the messenger."

Holst nodded as he turned away, his eyes lingering on Claude for a minute before he slipped away.

* * *

"Hello Ignatz," Dorothea said as she stepped over a sheet covered body. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah!" Ignatz exclaimed, turning around in surprise. "Dorothea, I did not see you there."

"Sorry for startling you," Dorothea said. "We're just saying our goodbyes."

"Oh," Ignatz said. "I see."

"Could I ask you a question?" Dorothea asked.

"Umm, of course," Ignatz started. "I'll help however I can."

"Did… did Mortis say anything about me when they made the exchange?" Dorothea asked.

Ignatz grimaced, "She looked at you, but I'm afraid that she never said a word."

"I- I see," Dorothea said. "It- it's just that I thought we might have had a friendship in those few days we were together."

"When she travelled with us, she was rather secretive," Ignatz said, looking down at the body of the woman next to him. "Had she told us about… certain things, perhaps this could have ended differently."

"I'm… surprised by that," Dorothea said. "She seemed really willing to talk with us."

"We spent our nights talking," Ignatz said after a minute. "But never about anything relevant. She would never reveal anything important about herself."

"She kept the topic on you then," Dorothea said, her face grim. "I- I'm a fool. I allowed myself to be distracted by silly little stories about Ingrid's father."

"Dorothea," Ignatz said, his voice comforting. "I don't believe that. Mortis… she's a dangerous enemy."

Dorothea grimaced, "I- I just feel foolish now having trusted her."

"Dorothea," Hubert said. "I see you have been… hurt by Mortis."

"I just thought that- perhaps I could have gotten to her," Dorothea explained.

"You have gotten more out of Mortis than any of us have," Hubert replied. "From my personal experience, Mortis was always someone with information, but never someone who willingly shared it."

"That hardly makes me feel better," Dorothea said. "Despite everything, she didn't even try to say goodbye?"

Hubert paused for a moment before he turned to Ignatz, "That's the body of that bandit, isn't it?"

"Huh?" Ignatz asked as he looked down. "Oh, yes! It is."

"Burn it," Hubert said. "Nobody will come for it. And that's not even counting for what the people will do when they find out she stabbed their precious Count Gloucester."

"Right," Ignatz said. "Where-"

"Imperial camp," Hubert said. "I'll summon soldiers to help you."

"Hubie, do you think that I… was part of the problem?" Dorothea asked.

"I believe your approach would have borne fruit in good time," Hubert said. "In just a single dinner with Mortis, we've already gained a clearer picture of the status of the northern lords. Had we been given more time with her, I believe this relationship could have netted us significant results."

"Hubert," Edelgard called as she crossed over the bridge. "Are we ready to leave?"

"Dorothea, are you ready to leave?" Hubert asked.

"Likely to be Adrasteia," Edelgard informed Dorothea. "Even if its not, be on your guard regardless."

"Has he-" Dorothea started.

"We cannot be certain for the time being," Hubert said. "Still, we do believe it's him."

"How bad is the fire?" Ignatz asked, his face nervous.

"We were given word of a fire, but not its extent or the damage it has caused," Hubert said. "That being said, the timing is too much of a coincidence to not be related to Adrasteia."

"May I come along?" Ignatz asked. "I- I believe I might be able to help you."

"You are familiar with the roads in Gloucester territory, correct?" Edelgard asked.

"Of course." Ignatz said. "I'm familiar with all the major roads within Alliance territory."

"Very good," Hubert said. "Be quick. We have little time to waste."

* * *

Thales smiled as the first Titanus golem roared to life, the arcane reactor within humming as the war machine marched forward, weapon and shield shifting as he turned down to the command module.

"Engineer," Thales barked. "Are you pleased with the structural integrity of this model?"

"I am," the young man said. "Our maintenance logs show no significant damage or wear from the awakening protocols."

"Very good," Thales said. "How many more do we possess?"

"Eighteen models immediately available," the engineer said. "Six more with significant damage that are unavailable at this time."

"Can they be salvaged?" Thales asked.

"Salvage?" the engineer asked. "You mean… taken apart for spare parts?"

"Let's suppose for a minute that a Titanus model is lacking a functioning shield," Thales said. "Is it possible to graft the shield of another Titanus unit onto it?"

The engineer grimaced. "We would be able to field twenty one units if we were to sacrifice the remaining three."

"Then do it," Thales said. "I want as many units as possible for this war."

"Understood," the man said, gesturing for a lackey to give the order. "I'll be going then."

"Twenty one Titanus golems," Thales said to himself as the second Titanus golem marched forward. "Twenty one reminders to this foul, blinded world that Agartha will rise once more."

* * *

So this is it then," Mortis said as she hopped from her horse, taking a moment to stretch her legs as Spite and Aranea moved toward the damaged plaza.

"A gateway to Zaharas," Spite responded as he removed a stone from a hidden pocket. "Mortis, would you like to do the honours?"

"What do we do with the horses?" Yurius asked.

"It matters not," Spite said. "If you wish to eliminate them, then that is your choice."

"I see," Yurius said, his face uncomfortable as Mortis moved to the centre of the plaza.

"Come Yurius," Spite said. "This is the closest gateway to Shambhala outside the Goneril gateway. It will be a short walk."

"Right," Yurius said as he stepped onto the plaza, taking a moment to glance behind him. "We weren't followed, right?"

"No, we were not," Spite said. "Mortis, you have my leave to commence."

"Right," Mortis muttered, taking the crystal heart in her hand, crushing the stone as dark magic enveloped her.

"Feed it your power," Spite said. "You are bringing four of us, not just two."

"I… understand," Mortis replied, her voice tense as the darkness surrounded the group, the tendrils of arcane seizing Yurius and Aranea as Mortis cried out.

"Bastard," Spite hissed as he placed a firm hand on Mortis' shoulder, channelling his own magic into the ritual as the tendrils of magic eased. "Mortis, step aside. I will take control of the rest of the ritual."

"Sorry," Mortis grimaced as she stepped away from the nexus of the ritual, the darkness enveloping Spite as the strands of arcane became thicker and more violent, the darkness swirling around the quartet as they were dragged into Zaharas.

* * *

"What's the damage report?" Edelgard asked as she hurried to Yuri, her eyes furious as she glanced at the charred remnants of the house.

Yuri grimaced as he stepped forward, "Easy there. There's been no crop damage, but from eyewitness testimony, it's Adrasteia."

Edelgard nodded as she stepped forward, still dressed in the full imperial plate, "What happened here?"

"Who're you?" an old man called from the back. "Go away! We don't like you kind here."

"You will treat your emperor with respect," Hubert warned the man as he stalked forward, his face murderous as he towered over the man. "She is Emperor to you."

"Hubert," Edelgard warned. "That's enough."

"Where is Count Gloucester?" a woman called.

"Dead," Edelgard replied after exchanging a glance with Byleth. "Your new count will be Lorenz Hellman Gloucester."

A woman crumpled to the ground as Hubert gritted his teeth, turning his gaze to Yuri. "Which one of them saw the whole thing?"

Yuri exchanged a glance with a younger man, the man taking a moment to step forward to face Hubert.

"You are the witness?" Hubert asked.

"Who's asking?" the man asked.

"Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg," Hubert shot back. "Your emperor, to be precise."

The man flinched as he took a step back, horror dawning on his face as he looked at Edelgard, "Right, my parents and I were attacked last night."

"By whom?" Hubert asked.

The young man grimaced as he glanced within the crowd behind him, "A man attacked us. He was fast and very effective."

"Describe him to me," Edelgard said as she stepped forward.

"He- he was older," the man started. "Really quite pale."

"White robes?" Edelgard asked. "Significant facial hair?"

The man nodded, "The others say he stole two horses and headed north with his companions."

"Did you get a good look at them?" Edelgard asked.

The man shook his head, "There were four of them, that's all we know."

"Adrasteia," Edelgard growled.

"I recognized one of them!" a voice cried out from the back of the group. "She was that healer, you know, the one who cured the plague?"

"Cornelia Armin?" Hubert asked.

"Yeah!" the woman exclaimed. "That pretty woman."

Hubert grimaced as he stepped back from the group, his voice low as he convened with Edelgard and Byleth, "Cornelia Armin is dead."

"Could it be a replacement?" Edelgard asked.

"Possible," Byleth said. "Hard to imagine anything else."

"Where did they go?" Hubert asked when he turned back to the woman.

"North!" the woman said, pointing a spindly finger in the direction the four had fled.

"Gloucester Manor is up there," Edelgard observed.

"As is Conand Tower," Hubert said. "With that army Sylvain mentioned."

"Where is Ingrid and Ashe?" Edelgard asked.

"Still at Myrddin I'm afraid." Hubert said. "Only the four of us came here."

"Hapi, fly back and bring the two of them with you," Edelgard ordered. "See to it that we meet up at Gloucester Manor."

"Bring along Sylvain and Felix as well," Byleth added.

"Right," Hapi said. "Chicken, Freckles, Lewd, and Stabby."

Edelgard blinked as she turned to Byleth.

"Ingrid and Ashe," Yuri translated, taking a moment to clear his throat. "Sylvain and Felix, in that order."

"Right," Edelgard said as she turned to the assembled group behind her. "We should head north, see what we can still find."

"Right," Hubert said. "Lead on, Lady Edelgard."

* * *

Yurius gasped as he opened his eyes again, the dark stone below him cold and unwelcoming as he pushed himself to his knees.

"You're awake," Spite observed. "Good. We were getting ready to move on."

"Right," Yurius said, giving Mortis a dirty look. "Where are we?"

"The Forbidden Realm of Zaharas," Spite said. "Less than an hour away from Shambhala."

"You know the way?" Yurius asked as he glanced at Mortis and Aranea.

"We have passed through these halls many times before," Aranea said. "But none of us more than my dear brother."

Spite nodded as he stepped away from the main group, his hands clasped in his lap as he sat upon a ruined bench.

"Mortis, are you ready to leave?" Aranea asked.

"Spite?" Yurius asked, his voice stunned as the older man turned to him.

"Is something wrong?" Spite asked.

"Is that-" Yurius choked, a trembling finger pointed behind Spite. "Kronya?"

Spite frowned as he turned around, his eyes taking a moment to watch his fallen sister.

"So it is," Spite said, rising to his feet, his face blank. "She's dead. She will not harm us."

"Spite-" Mortis started. "Is she- is she alright?"

"No," Spite said, his face pained as he turned back to the phantom of his sister. "Kronya has lost her memory, I'm afraid."

"It's not a pleasant story," Aranea cut in. "Suffice to say, you do not need to know."

Spite nodded as he passed the phantom of his sister, "Come along now. We've wasted enough time."

* * *

**AN:** Chapter 34 done. Sorry it took so long. I've been working on some other projects in the background. Might publish one in the near future.

**AN 2:** The poll is at a tie (1 vote for each side). Next vote wins.

**Next Chapter:**

Spite- Phantoms in the dark.

Edelgard- Trudging through the ashes.

Claude- An oath broken.

Seteth- Unclaimed.

Mortis- One of seven.

Read, Review, Follow, yada yada.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35. Vae Victis, Part 2.

* * *

"Gloucester Manor," Edelgard muttered as she climbed from her horse, her grip on Aymr tight as she glanced around the charred remnants of the buildings. "I see Adrasteia was through in his destruction."

Byleth nodded as he turned to Hubert, "Does this look like something Mortis would do?"

Hubert paused, "I cannot say for certain. My in person interactions with her were limited."

"I think this is something Mortis would have done," Ignatz offered. "She did set fires in Myrddin after all."

"Did Mortis ever burn a building down when you last worked with her?" Byleth asked Hubert.

"She did," Hubert confirmed as he crossed his arms. "It was a slow fire, slow enough to allow for early escape, but powerful enough that it could not be put out before the building itself was destroyed.

"Professor," Yuri observed from the side of the group. "There's a horse here."

"Odd," Byleth said as he turned to the direction Yuri was pointing to, his face dark as he watched the horse bite into an unattended rose bush. "A horse wandering without a rider."

"There are no signs of life here," Hubert added. "Odd that there are no dead bodies either."

"What do you mean by that?" Byleth asked.

"Mortis was very strict about eliminating potential witnesses," Hubert said. "She slashed the throats of two drunkards who had potentially witnessed our first assassination. For this area to be devoid of the dead would suggest that this Adrasteia was a ghost, or the area was abandoned when he struck against the former count."

"Adrasteia is not a ghost," Byleth said. "That much we know for certain."

"And it is very much unlikely the count would have been left alone for a long period of time," Edelgard finished. "Especially considering his active rebellion."

"Hubert, Yuri, I want the two of you to scout the edges of the property," Byleth cut in. "Edelgard and I will see if there's anything within the manor itself."

"I can take care of the horse for the time being," Ignatz offered. "There might be some grazing land around the manor."

"Very well," Hubert said. "I'll make my way along the western fence. "Yuri, you head east. We'll meet up in the northeast corner of the property."

"Right," Yuri said as he pulled a sword from its scabbard. "Keep your eyes open."

* * *

"Aranea, do you have the power left to open a portal?" Spite asked as his sister followed him.

"Doubtful," Aranea replied. "I'm not fully recovered."

Spite nodded, "It is possible that Solon's forces could be heading along the same pathway. We can rest for a while. It would save us a heart if we were to only open the portal once."

"Right," Aranea said. "Do we wait here?"

"This is the gateway to Goneril territory," Spite said as he glanced around the room. "Only Shambhala proper awaits after this room."

"Why is a single heart of so much importance to you?" Aranea asked.

"The insanity Thales is planning," Spite replied. "A Nabatean is rather difficult to bring back, and the plan calls for the return of the second most powerful Nabatean in recorded history. It would take an immense amount of arcane might to pull off."

"You really don't like the plan much, do you?" Aranea snorted.

"No, I don't," Spite said. "I think the plan is a waste of valuable resources that could be better spent elsewhere."

"And what would you do?" Aranea asked. "If you were in charge of the war."

"It would depend on how much of Fodlan we want to preserve," Spite said. "For our own rule afterwards."

"Do tell," Aranea said. "I want to listen to one of your plans for once."

"You already know what kind of plans I favour," Spite snorted. "You watched me plan Noose."

"Walk me through it," Aranea said. "What does that diabolical mind of your cook up anyways?"

"Fine," Spite scoffed, taking a moment to sit on a fallen pillar. "I would launch a coordinated attack against vital food production facilities across Fodlan. An army of phantoms that could wreak untold havoc across Fodlan through use of Zaharas. A force of invisible terrors that even the descendents of the Ten Elites could do nothing against."

"You would break their faith," Aranea said.

"Not just break it," Spite said. "I would give them a new ruler, one based on superstition and the alleged power of their fell goddess. Claim that the army was the wrath of the Fell Star given form. And let their own paranoia do the rest."

"And then what?" Aranea asked.

"Demand the head of the betrayer on a platter," Spite said. "She is simply too… able to be allowed to live."

"High praise coming from you," Aranea said.

"I created her," Spite replied. "The duty falls to me to put her down."

"What duty?" Aranea scoffed. "You did nothing wrong."

Spite sighed as he turned to his sister, running a hand through his hair, "Had… had I been Agastya during the Enbarr years, I would have chosen to answer the Enbarr question differently, and maybe that would see a different turn of events."

Aranea raised an eyebrow at her brother's words, her hands clasped as Spite turned away.

"Spite?" Mortis asked as Spite rose to his feet. "Are we moving forward?"

"Not yet," Spite said. "I wouldn't have us move until later."

"Why is that?" Mortis asked.

"There is another expeditionary force out there," Spite said. "It's possible they will also be travelling this way today."

"Why are we waiting for them?" Yurius asked.

"There's no reason to waste precious resources over a few hours," Spite said.

"Right," Yurius said. "Sorry, it's just that I've been sitting in a dark cell for a while now."

"And how did they treat you?" Spite asked, his tone even as he looked at Yurius.

"I'm alright," Yurius said, raising his hands in an attempt to ward Spite off.

Spite frowned, "I'll make a note for an apothecary to look at you once we return."

Yurius nodded, "Spite, could I ask you about something?"

Spite raised an eyebrow, "What is that?"

"I never really got to ask you this before, but why did you spare Monica?"

"The von Ochs girl, yes?" Spite asked, his face measured as he watched Yurius nod. "Your… host had requested her survival."

"He sent a letter to me in person," Aranea said. "Said he had a certain use for her. I relayed the message to my brother."

"I'm told that magi with a link to the nobility of the Adrestian Empire is hard to come by," Spite said. "And that he owed a debt to the girl's father."

"What happened to that old man anyways?" Aranea asked.

"He had an encounter with Myson," Spite said. "It went poorly for him, and he was ultimately killed."

"Myson?" Yurius asked.

"My replacement within imperial command after I was recalled to Shambhala," Spite said. "He was able to leverage two incidents which almost allowed us to claim relics belonging to the Four Apostles."

"Almost," Aranea said. "He failed in both attempts. Still, he was able to gain valuable information on creating demonic beasts."

"That he was," Spite said. "But the operations were overall failures in that both relics that had been drawn out fell into the hands of our puppets."

"Which they turned against us," Mortis finished.

"Correct," Spite said as he turned to Yurius. "But that's enough about the past."

"If we were to find Monica on the battlefield," Yurius started. "She-"

"If she was unwilling to join us, we would likely have to strike her down," Spite said. "But if Hawthorne kept his end of the bargain, there is no reason to believe she was on the battlefield to begin with."

Mortis paused as she turned to Yurius, "I believe I saw her at Garreg Mach."

Spite blinked as he turned back to Yurius, "That is rather unfortunate. Still, we will make an attempt at avoiding killing her on the battlefield. That is all I can promise."

"Right," Yurius said, his face uncomfortable as he turned away from Spite and Mortis. "Thanks anyways."

* * *

"Ashe," Seteth said, his face concerned as the young knight rushed into him. "Where are you going?"

"Ah," Ashe said, taking a step back. "Sorry, we've been ordered to head north."

"Ashe-" Ingrid started. "My apologies Seteth, but Edelgard has requested our presence up north."

Seteth nodded as he stood to the side, "I'll leave you to it then."

"Right," Ashe said as he climbed aboard a horse. "I'll be going now."

"There goes that nice boy," Indech observed as he stepped from a side alleyway. "Where are they headed?"

"North," Seteth said. "It seems as if they found a place that's worth looking into."

Indech nodded as he yawned.

"Long night?" Seteth asked.

Indech paused, "I could not bring myself to sleep last night. To know that the scions of Agartha are still as dangerous as… back then."

Seteth closed his eyes as he walked along the rows of dead, "I cannot think what terrible agony they must have experienced in their final moments."

"So much death has happened in this place," Indech said.

"Not just this once, brother," Seteth replied. "There was a battle here some months ago as well. When the Adrestian Empire first took this bridge."

Indech grimaced as he looked away, "It's not a battle I fear, but to go to sleep one night…"

"Like mother," Seteth finished.

"You understand then," Indech said. "To be carved into pieces as I slept, or to be erased through those Agarthan world breakers. That is what I fear."

Seteth nodded as he turned away from his brother, his eyes settling on Flayn as she approached him.

"Father," Flayn said. "There's a lot of people coming in from the east."

Seteth frowned, "Is that so?"

"Those coming to claim their loved ones," Lorenz explained as he hurried next to Seteth. "As a representative of the Church, I ask that you… assist me in this endeavor."

"The church is disbanded," Seteth pointed out. "I would not have the authority."

Lorenz shook his head, "Many of my people have clung to their faith in this hour. It is all they have left. If you were to even simply give a short prayer for each of them, it would give them peace of mind."

Seteth nodded as he turned to Flayn and Indech, "I'll be going then."

"Right," Indech said, his voice gentle as he led Flayn away. "I'll try to catch some fish for lunch today."

* * *

"Yuri," Hubert said as he nodded to the other man. "Anything of interest in your side of the estate?"

Yuri shook his head, "Nothing."

Hubert nodded, "The fire on the west side of the estate was expertly set. Likely from within the building itself."

"Tell me more," Yuri said. "I may have… had some experience with fire."

Hubert raised an eyebrow before he gestured for Yuri to follow him, the two men walking for a minute before Hubert spoke.

"I believe the fire was set within the building," Hubert said. "The outside of the building, while showing considerable damage, has not been entirely charred, while the inside of this building has collapsed entirely."

"What do you think the building was?" Yuri asked as he glanced behind the pair, as if a ghostly enemy was stalking them.

"A stable," Hubert said. "If Adrasteia was looking for a distraction, what better way to distract his enemies than to have a dozen rampaging horses across the manor? It would also explain the lost horse wandering the estate."

"Fair point," Yuri said as they approached the main building. "Teach."

"Yuri, Hubert," Byleth said. "Have either of you brought any news about the estate?"

"The burned building we saw earlier appears to have been the stable for the late Count Gloucester," Hubert explained. "I believe it was burned to provide Adrasteia with a means of concealing himself in a position where he could strike at the late count."

Byleth nodded as he waved for the two men to enter the building. "The fire has destroyed much of what remains of Gloucester's manor, but the structure itself is still sturdy, having been made from stone."

Hubert nodded as he approached Edelgard, giving her a slight bow as she rose from a crouch.

"Three dead," Edelgard said, gesturing to two bodies at her feet. "The third one is behind the Professor."

"Do we have any idea who any of them are?" Hubert asked.

"I believe one of them is Acheron," Edelgard said. "His hair has… rather miraculously survived."

"But he did not, did he?" Yuri asked. "Pity, that's one more lord I can't take advantage of from now on."

Hubert frowned as he tore the wig from the dead man, taking a minute to examine the hairpiece, "Almost certainly enchanted. Very expensive."

"But in poor taste," Yuri commented.

Hubert chuckled at the comment before tossing the wig away, "Are there any rooms in particular we should look at?"

Byleth paused, "I believe Ignatz would have an idea of that. Call him in. Leave the horse as is."

"Right," Yuri said as he turned from the building. "I'll be out then."

"I'm pleased that Acheron has been dealt with," Edelgard offered after a minute of silence. "Still, we have gotten few answers out of this place."

"We'll just have to wait for the others then." Byleth said. "We've done what we could have."

Edelgard nodded as she tossed the wig aside, glancing up at the ruined staircase above them.

"El?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard shook her head, "It's nothing. Let's go."

* * *

"We have contact," the messenger gasped as he scrambled into the room. "There's been contact at Conand Tower."

"Is that so?" Count Galatea asked, rising to his feet as he turned to his two guests. "Are these friends of yours, by any chance?"

"We came here alone," Tiana shot back. "We did not have a second fleet behind us."

"So it's not Reza then," Count Galatea said. "I will lead my forces toward the front in that case. I expect you two to follow."

"What choice do we have?" Claude asked. "It's not like we can just say no."

"Have they made any attempt to negotiate so far?" Count Galatea asked.

The messenger shook his head, "I was sent back here the moment that we encountered anyone at the site. I was not informed of their affiliation."

Count Galatea nodded at the response, "Very well then. Summon Holst. Tell him that we are marching on Conand Tower."

"I'm right here," Holst said as he entered the room, an empty cup of tea in hand as he sat down. "My men are ready to move in whenever."

Count Galatea nodded, "Your men will flank them from the north. Ensure they don't see us coming."

"I understand," Holst said as he stood up. "Consider it done."

* * *

"Doesn't seem like they're coming," Aranea commented as Spite rose to his feet.

"Pity," Spite replied. "Yurius, Mortis, be prepared to move out."

"Hey Spite, I think I see something," Yurius said. "Is that- is that one of ours?"

Spite frowned as he stepped next to Yurius, his eyes narrowing as he stared the dead soldier down, "No Yurius, that's a revenant."

Yurius flinched at the words and took a step back, "Does it want to hurt us?"

"Possible," Spite said. "But we have the magic to reduce it to dust, so there's little it can do."

"Will it try to harm us?" Yurius asked.

"Doubtful," Spite replied as he turned away from the ghost. "If nothing else, they'll know to fear our power."

Yurius nodded as he turned to follow Spite, taking one more look at the crowd of ghosts gathering behind them before he broke into a run.

* * *

"Do you see anything?" Caspar asked for the third time.

Douglas frowned as he inched forward, "Do you know of any blondes?"

"Well, there's quite a few of them," Caspar reasoned.

"It's a man," Douglas said. "And he's looking right at us."

"Wait-" Caspar started as a wyvern slammed into the ground next to him, the blue haired fighter staggering as he fell back, a lance piercing the ground beside him as Douglas spun around, his bow aimed at the sudden attacker.

"Imperial army!" Douglas shouted as he advanced, his bow pointed at the pink haired man's head. "Identify yourself or say your prayers!"

"Imperial army?" the man spluttered as he looked down. "Where are you-"

"Fhirdiad detachment," Douglas snapped. "Taking a detour to find two missing officers. And what of you?"

"I am Holst Goneril," the pink haired man shot back. "Commander of Fodlan's Locket."

"Hey wait a minute," Caspar said. "I know you!"

Douglas grimaced as he lowered his bow, "Where from?"

"You're the guy who ate those mushrooms!" Caspar said.

Holst gritted his teeth as he turned to the blonde man hurrying to the group.

"Douglas, you know this guy?" Caspar asked, pointing to the man approaching them.

"That-" Douglas started, taking a moment to look at Caspar before he continued. "That's Count Galatea, General Galatea's father."

"Ingrid's father," a soldier said as he translated the title for Caspar.

"Ah," Caspar said before he looked at the shorter man next to the count. "And why is Claude here? Didn't he promise to leave Fodlan?"

"I told you so," Claude muttered to the woman next to him.

Holst cleared his throat, "Lady Tiana Shah, Queen of Almyra, and her son, Crown Prince Khalid Shah of Almyra."

"Right," Douglas said, turning his eyes to Claude. "We're looking for General Ubert and General Galatea."

"Ingrid?" Count Galatea started, his voice hard as he looked at the archer before him.

Douglas grimaced, "Yes."

"We never saw either Ingrid or Ashe," Claude cut in. "They were here?"

"We had reports that there was an army at Conand Tower," Douglas said. "Generals Ubert and Galatea went to gather a head count while Generals Gautier and Fraldarius left for Garreg Mach to summon reinforcements."

"Garreg Mach," Count Galatea said. "Not Enbarr?"

"We were told Garreg Mach," Douglas said. "While word may have reached Enbarr, it would take time before any mainline imperial forces could reach Conand."

Count Galatea nodded as he turned around, "We did encounter the remnants of a hostile force, but it had almost been slaughtered to a man by the time we arrived here, by the so-called Lord of the Desert, as it were."

Douglas narrowed his eyes as he turned to Caspar, "Is that so?"

"Ashe… Ashe encountered a dragon at Fhirdiad," Caspar said. "It flew off with Ingrid."

"My daughter?" Count Galatea asked, his tone frigid as he stared at Caspar.

"General Ubert was able to retrieve her with only minor injuries," Douglas interjected, stepping in between Caspar and the furious Count Galatea.

"Count Galatea," Holst said, placing a calming hand on the man's shoulder. "Perhaps they are able to identify the dead for us?"

"There's at least one I think you should see," Claude interjected. "Though there's not exactly much of him left."

"Why is that?" Caspar asked.

"I think you know him," Claude said. "Though he only seems vaguely familiar to me."

"Show me," Caspar said as Claude turned around.

"Show all of us," Count Galatea said. "If this is important, we can let Myrddin know."

* * *

"Spite?"

"Yurius," Spite said in response, turning to face the younger man, "Is something the matter?"

"Is it just me, or are there more ghosts following us than before?" Yurius asked.

"_Well, he's not wrong,_" Aranea reasoned. _"There are more ghosts following us._"

"And what should we do with them?" Mortis asked.

"We don't have the time to clear all of them out," Spite said as he glanced at the formless wave spilling into the room they stood in. "We're almost to the gateway back to Shambhala regardless."

A particularly loud cry from the crowd behind them made Yurius flinch, the man turning to a frantic sprint as he fled ahead of the group.

"I didn't know he was afraid of ghosts," Spite observed as he increased his pace to a brisk walk. "Might be a problem if we were to ever return to Zaharas."

"Likely that we will," Aranea said. "Still, we are close to the room."

"One more hallway and we'll be there," Spite said, launching a ball of fire at the stones behind them. "Pity if Yurius went the wrong way."

Aranea snorted, "That boy is hopeless."

"Yurius!" Spite called after the spooked soldier. "Hallway to your left!"

A scream responded as Spite swore.

"What now?" Aranea muttered, rubbing her eyes in exhaustion as Spite fed even more magic into the flames behind him. "Did he find a dead body?"

Mortis growled as she hurried after Yurius, her eyes narrowed as she swore.

"Spite?"

"Mortis," Spite said as he caught up to his apprentice, his eyes turned to the hunched ghost standing before him. "What the-"

"Solon?" Aranea gasped. "Is that Solon?"

"Was," Spite said. "What happened to him?"

"Bad news," Mortis muttered as she kicked the downed man. "Looks like Yurius is out cold."

"We're one room away from Shambhala," Spite said as he glanced back at the wall behind them. "We can carry him there before performing the ritual."

"Right," Mortis said. "But what happened to Solon?"

"His mind must have been destroyed before he was slain," Spite muttered. "There is no saving him, even if we were to bring him back again."

"Who could have done that?" Mortis asked, her face disgusted as she took a step back from the ghost of Solon.

"Macuil," a ghostly voice behind them shrieked through the wall of fire. "Macuil! Macuil! Macuil!"

Spite turned to face the assembled crowd through the flames of the wall, his eyes narrowing as he saw faces he recognized.

"Bastards," Aranea growled as she turned to face the ghosts.

"So he returned," Spite muttered as he reached to grab the downed Yurius. "Mortis, help me with Yurius. Aranea, opening the portal falls to you. Let's get out of here before the wall fails."

"Right," Aranea said as she turned away from the broken form of Solon and the crowd of ghosts behind them. "Let's go then."

* * *

Seteth paused as he wiped the sheen of sweat from his head, his face solemn as the last grieving family turned away from him, their beloved son wrapped in a simple bedsheet.

"Just one left then," Lorenz said as he approached Seteth, his arms behind his back as he nodded in greeting.

"Your noble father's murderer," Seteth said.

Lorenz nodded as he looked down at the wrapped corpse, "I- I am conflicted. Is it wrong for me to have such hatred in my heart?"

Seteth closed his eyes as he stepped away from the corpse, "Let us speak of this elsewhere."

Lorenz nodded as he followed Seteth toward the imperial side of the bridge, past the ruined husks that had once been the northern side of Myrddin.

"What is it that you believe you'll get out of… this?" Seteth asked.

Lorenz closed his eyes as he clenched his hands into tight balls but said nothing as the two men walked along the bridge.

"I once stood where you did," Seteth said after a minute of walking, his gaze turned to the water rushing under the bridge. "My brothers and sisters, slain by those I had once called friends."

"I'm sorry for that," Lorenz said.

"But it was not revenge that gave me purpose," Seteth said. "Revenge did not give me the determination to watch over Flayn over all these years. Duty and love did."

Lorenz glanced back at the distant sheet-wrapped body before he spoke, "And what does revenge provide?"

"You know the answer to that," Seteth reminded Lorenz. "Revenge against the dead is meaningless."

Lorenz stood silent for a minute before he continued, "And what is it that you would have me do? What would you do in my place?"

"When the war ended, the first act of my sister was to build a monument to our mother," Seteth said. "She built it to continue her revenge, but also to honour mother for the life she had led, not the death that she had no hand in, to wipe away the city of Agartha, which had burned Fodlan to ash in the old war."

Lorenz nodded as he walked back to the body, a torch in his hand as the night descended.

"If mother was to see it," Seteth said after a minute of silence, "I believe she would have felt pride at what Seiros built in her memory."

Lorenz nodded as he turned to the burnt town around him, "So to build a new Myrddin over the ashes of the old."

"But not just Myrddin," Seteth said. "What makes Garreg Mach great was that it had the people willing to strive for greater things. If there are no eyes to witness and enjoy this new Myrddin, then what is it that you have laboured for?"

* * *

"Agastya?" Chilon asked as he stood by the door.

"Chilon," Thales said as he turned to the younger man, his tea untouched as he looked up.

"Lord S- Periander has returned. Lady Pittacus is with him."

"And the two operatives he was sent to retrieve?" Thales asked.

"They have been recovered," Chilon said. "Though one is regrettably unconscious."

Thales nodded, "Where are Lord Periander and Lady Pittacus?"

Chilon glanced behind him as Thales took a sip of his tea.

"The entire group of three are here," Chilon said. "The unconscious man has been transferred to the infirmary."

"Very well," Thales said. "Have the three of them come in."

Chilon nodded as he stepped out of the room.

"I am glad to see that you are well," Thales said. "Please, sit."

Spite nodded as he sat down, his face grim as he turned to Thales.

"The northern expedition was annihilated," Spite said. "All signs at the scene of the battle suggest Macuil was responsible."

Thales closed his eyes for a moment before he nodded, "I will wait for Solon to confirm the fact, but I believe your words."

"He's not coming back," Aranea added. "We encountered his spirit when we made our trip back to Zaharas."

"Is this true?" Thales asked as he turned to Spite.

"His mind was destroyed before his death," Spite said. "However, the other undead within Zaharas indicated to us that Macuil was responsible for their annihilation as well. It is possible he was waiting in ambush."

Thales nodded, "This is rather fantastical, and had it been from anyone else, I would not have believed it."

"I understand your feelings," Spite said in reply. "That being said, I stand by my report."

Thales nodded as he closed his eyes, "Lord Periander, you will return to Zaharas with me. I will confirm this report in person. Lady Pittacus, you and your apprentice are dismissed for the time being."

"I understand," Pittacus said as she bowed her head in understanding.

"Return to your living quarters," Thales said. "Remain there until I return."

"Of course," Aranea said as she stood up, nodding to Chilon as she left the room.

* * *

"I see Zaharas is disturbed," Thales observed as the portal behind him shut, the harsh light from Shambhala failing as the gateway closed.

Spite said nothing as he followed his superior into the darkness, the green light of Zaharas eerie as the two men walked forward.

"Do you recognize this artifact?" Thales asked as he raised a horn to his lips.

"I do," Spite said. "Though I admit I have never attempted to use it before."

Thales nodded as he blew, the sound haunting as the chamber shook.

"Your moment of reckoning awaits," Thales said as the tide of ghosts rushed into the chamber, a hundred faces visible as they surrounded the duo.

"Percival, I believe your name was," Thales said as a ghost knelt before him.

"I have failed you," the ghost started, his face bowed to the ground below.

"You fell in service to Agartha," Thales said. "There is no end more noble than that."

"But I was not enough," Percival cried, his eyes turning to both Thales and Spite. "For all the trust that was placed in me, I failed."

"Tell us what happened," Thales said.

"The Wind Caller struck our group," Percival started. "Vito and the others had gone into the woods to look for Olympia, and I- I failed."

"And yet he stands next to you," Thales said as he focused on another ghost, his head bowed as he moved forward.

"My unit was ambushed by Almyran pirates," Vito admitted as his form flickered. "We were… massacred."

"Vito," Spite barked. "Where is Olympia?"

"I- I do not know," Vito admitted. "We did not reach Olympia before they attacked us."

"And what of Solon?" Thales asked as the ghosts parted once more, his face turned to disgust as he saw the mewling form of his subordinate.

"That's how I found him," Spite offered after a moment of silence.

"And when was it that you last saw him alive?"

"I walked him to the gateway to Zaharas when he left," Vito volunteered. "He hadn't been there for over a day when Macuil came for us."

"You inspire a great deal of loyalty in your men," Thales said as he turned to Spite. "Even those who have fallen in the line of duty stand with you."

Spite said nothing.

"The rest of you are dismissed," Thales said to the fading ghosts. "We will return to Shambhala to discuss this… development."

* * *

"Mortis," Spite offered as he greeted his apprentice. "Thales has called for you."

"Is this related to-" Mortis started.

"I do not know," Spite said. "But he summoned you in person."

"Right," Mortis muttered as she followed Spite. "Do we have a plan for the near future?"

Spite paused before he shook his head, "We will see in the near future, but the meeting will come first."

Mortis nodded as she spotted Aranea, the trio quiet as they reached the conference room.

"Ready?" Aranea asked.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't drown yourself in my alcohol stash when I'm away on official business," Spite muttered as he opened the door, his face growing murderous as he saw the woman in the room.

"Lord Periander!" Thales barked. "Enough."

"Agastya Thales," Spite started as he glared at the woman. "What is she doing here?"

"She has defied my orders," Thales said, his voice hard as Spite lit a orb of fire in his hand."That being said, she is not to be harmed… yet."

Spite growled as he extinguished the fire in his hand, taking a moment to slide into a chair next to Myson.

"Chilon, you are already familiar with what we intend to do in the coming days, so you are to take our guest back to her quarters. She is to be denied food for the next two days."

Chilon nodded as he seized the woman's hand, his armoured gauntlet delivering a vicious crunch as the woman was dragged from the conference room.

"Now that that matter is dealt with," Thales said. "I regret to inform the rest of you that our plans have reached a hitch."

"Is something the matter?" Myson asked.

"Indeed," Thales said. "Solon is dead."

Myson turned to the man beside him as his fists clenched.

"He was obliterated by the intervention of a cursed Nabatean," Thales said. "It is unfortunate, but we cannot bring him back this time. He is lost."

"And no," Thales added. "Lord Periander had nothing to do with it."

Myson swallowed before he glanced at Spite, "Of course not."

"Our next orders of business will start tomorrow," Thales said. "We will augment our standing forces in the coming days. Lady Pittacus, you will organize our existing arcane regiments into an effective fighting force."

Aranea nodded, "I would be honoured."

"Lord Periander, you will assist me in an endeavour to field more soldiers when we reach Fhirdiad," Thales continued. "We will require your rather unique talents for this undertaking."

Spite nodded as he bowed his head.

"Lord Myson," Thales said as turned to the last member of the Septet within the room, "There is at least a single open slot in regards to the Septet, with the loss of Solon. Within this room are two potential candidates for the next Lord or Lady Solon."

Myson narrowed his eyes as he turned to Mortis and Odesse, "There two, I presume?"

"Correct," Thales said. "They are Mortis and Odesse. By the time we leave Shambhala for the next phase of our plan, I expect you to name at least one of them into the ranks of the Septet."

Myson nodded as he leaned back into his seat, "As you command."

Thales nodded as he stood, "The meeting is adjourned. Come, Lord Periander, there is much to discuss before we break for the evening."

Spite turned his gaze to Aranea and Mortis before he stood and followed Thales out of the room, the door shutting behind him.

"Mortis and Odesse," Myson observed as he sat up, his fingers crossed as he looked at the two younger faces at the table. "Before I begin, I will make it clear that I will judge you on merit alone. Your past and your affiliations mean nothing to me. Is that clear?"

"I understand," Mortis started.

Myson nodded as he turned to Odesse, "And what say you?"

"I- I understand," Odesse muttered.

"This is going to end badly," Myson muttered as he turned to Aranea.

"My brother taught her the old tongue," Aranea informed her peer. "Not so sure about him."

Myson snorted as he turned to the blank-faced Odesse, "I hope your brother was through in his work, I would be very disappointed if she was lacking."

"Oh we shall find out," Aranea muttered as she rose from her seat. "The two of you are free to go. Myson, do you have a time tomorrow you want them?"

"Daybreak," Myson said as he leaned back into his seat. "Back exit."

"The one with the monolith?" Mortis asked as she stood up.

"Correct," Myson said as he turned to leave the room. "Daybreak, not a minute later."

* * *

"Right, we're here," Felix muttered as he climbed from his horse.

"What a mess," Ingrid whispered as she dismounted. "Is this truly the Gloucester estate?"

"For such a wealthy region, the manor does seem small," Ashe admitted.

"Still, this is the largest building for some time," Sylvain reasoned as he climbed off his horse. "Professor! You here?"

"There you are," Yuri said as he popped his head from the charred remnants of the manor house. "Took you long enough. Sun's going down already."

"Yuri, that's enough," Byleth chided as he stepped out after Yuri. "It's good to see that you've made it here, but we have questions."

"Well," Sylvain started. "We're all ears, teach."

"Ingrid, Ashe, where were you when Gloucester Manor burned?" Byleth asked.

Ingrid and Ashe exchanged a glance before Ashe spoke up, "There's an unused tower of some sort in the corner of the estate, and they forced us to get in."

Byleth turned to glance at the tall building in the distance, "And how did you get into the estate?"

"There was a fence we were able to climb over," Ingrid said. "We can show it to you if you want."

"That will not be necessary," Edelgard interjected as she stepped from the house. "We are making a move on Conand Tower soon. The army there must be dislodged."

Ashe turned pale as he took a step back.

"Ashe, is there something wrong?" Edelgard asked.

"There- there was no army at Conand Tower," Ingrid stammered. "There were only a few of them there, not an entire army."

"So your prisoner was lying then?" Byleth concluded.

"No," Ingrid said. "It- Solon was there."

Byleth flinched, "We killed Solon."

Ingrid shook her head, "Solon and Cornelia were both there, Cornelia said that Adrasteia was her brother."

"It's true!" Ashe protested. "I saw her too."

"Cornelia is still alive?" Edelgard asked, her voice frigid as she turned to Byleth. "Solon too?"

"Tell us more," Byleth said. "What else did you see there?"

Ashe closed his eyes for a moment as Sylvain turned his head, "Professor? We have company."

Byleth frowned as he turned to Sylvain, his eyes turning to the sky as a pale fleck grew closer.

"Hold your fire," Edelgard said as she looked up. "It doesn't seem hostile."

"Bodies," Ingrid said.

"Pardon?" Byleth asked as he turned to Ingrid.

"We saw bodies at Conand Tower. More dead bodies on the ground than there were soldiers guarding us," Ingrid said. "The soldiers- they were doing something to the bodies."

"I have them on visual," Hubert called. "It's a wyvern rider. One of ours."

Edelgard nodded as she stepped forward, the young man on the beast gasping as he climbed from the beast.

"Soldier, what are you doing so far from your post?" Hubert barked.

"Hubert?" Edelgard asked.

"His uniform is of one of the guards under Holst Goneril," Hubert explained. "Why he was flying from the direction of A- Conand."

"I bring news from Galatea territory," the man gasped as he looked up, his face stunned as he realized who he was talking to. "There- there's been a landing of Almyran pirates at Conand Tower. We've taken their leaders prisoner at the County of Galatea."

Edelgard narrowed her eyes as she turned to look at the man, "And has there been any other news you wish to report?"

The man nodded as he glanced down at the ground, "There's been a massacre at Conand Tower. Estimates say there's at least a hundred bodies there."

"One hundred dead," Edelgard muttered as she turned to the man, her eyes dark as she turned to the group around her. "There's no time to waste. Have our forces march to Galatea territory. It will take some time to navigate the mountains, but we must make time."

"May- may I say something?" the soldier before Edelgard stammered.

"What is it now?" Hubert growled.

"There is a shipment of citrus meant for the captured pirates docked at the Daphnel river. It's to leave for Galatea territory shortly."

Edelgard glanced at the exhausted horses of the group around her, "Then we will leave for that ship at daybreak. Until then, try to find a place to sleep."

* * *

**AN:** Chapter 35 done. Read, Review, yada yada. The whole song and dance.

Due to a lack of responses to the poll, I have shut it down. Regardless, thank you to the umm... 2 people who took the time to vote. From this point on, I will be uploading on a week by week basis.

**AN 2:** The second project. I will also be starting a new project in the coming days. This project will take away from this story, but I am still committed to finishing this story at least before February of next year.

I am doing this because, as readers may have noticed, I've burned out since finishing the Burning of Gloucester arc, and my pace as suffered greatly as a result. I believe this secondary project will allow me to have an alternative to writing this particular work when I'm not in the mood.

With that bit out of the way...

Next chapter. (Expected in 2 weeks time).

The price of blood- Spite.

Demon- Edelgard.

The price of failure- Claude.

The bitter pill- Dorothea.

Mother- ?


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36: Vae Victus, Part 3.

* * *

_I saw her face as I slept._

_I reached for her hand._

_But she tore herself away, her face lined with terror._

_I chased after her, into the darkness, into the land of roaring shadows._

_But the dead stopped me, unliving hands and claws tearing at my legs._

_They dragged me down, their leering, bloodstained faces blocking out the light that was mother._

* * *

"I thought you would be out here." Aranea turned to her brother, the twins standing in silence before Spite turned to face his sister. "Worried for tomorrow?"

"No," Spite replied, taking a breath of the warm summer air as he closed his eyes. "I'm not."

"Stop lying," Aranea chuckled. "I know you well enough that you're worried."

"Why should I be worried?" Spite raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the black monolith. "I've finally learned the truth-"

"Oh shut it Addy, I knew you were going to hold it over me," Aranea growled.

"I've recovered Mortis," Spite continued, "And of course, she's ascended into one of the Septet."

"She hasn't ascended yet." Aranea pointed. "Myson is responsible for deciding that."

"Yes, and we both know Odesse is an incompetent buffoon," Spite sneered. "I'll be surprised if he even survives whatever Myson is planning."

"Are you going to sleep?" Aranea asked.

"No," Spite rubbed his face as he turned back to the monolith. "I have certain things to do."

"Like shaving," Aranea snickered.

Spite reached for the stubble on his face before he nodded, "One of many things to do before daybreak."

"What do you think Thales is going to do tomorrow?" Aranea asked.

"I couldn't tell for certain," Spite replied. "Still, I suspect it has something to do with the dead within Zaharas."

"How much has Thales gone into your predecessor's papers?"

Spite shrugged, "I have a suspicion on what he's planning, but I'm not in his head."

"I see," Aranea shrugged. "We'll see in the future, won't we?"

"I'd much rather have your job, if I'm going to be honest," Spite admitted. "It's boring, but not as stressful as whatever Thales is going to have me cook up."

"Lovely," Aranea grumbled. "More work for me then."

Spite chuckled, "At least you don't have to deal with Thales."

* * *

_I see my face in the darkness._

_She mirrors me, her face a mocking serenity._

_But I see the madness in her eyes, even as she extends an arm forward._

_I shrink from the pale grasp of the doppelganger, but she does not stop._

_The arm tears through the darkness. _

_It finds my throat._

_And then I cannot breathe._

_Cannot fight. _

_Cannot scream._

_She forces me to meet her eyes- my eyes._

_She forces me to see the madness within._

_My madness._

_That which I have hidden for so long._

_I scream, but no sound escapes my lips._

_Her face begins to decay, to rot and fester before my eyes._

_Something in me turns away from the horror, but yet I am trapped in place._

_I see mother beneath the pestilence, her knowing eyes judging me._

_I scream her name._

_But my voice is gone, and her eyes burn my will to fight away._

_My knees break and falter, and a feeling burns in my heart._

_Is it fear? Horror? Shame?_

_I do not know._

_But she still judges me._

_And I have been found wanting._

* * *

She was alone in the palace again, the marble halls shattered and the air reeking of fire and smoke.

Edelgard blinked as she looked down at her hands, her heartbeat rising as the haunting voice drew her in, past the doors leading into the throne room, her legs moving to a cruel puppeteer's strings.

She steeled herself as she faced down her monstrous doppelganger, the blank eyes of Adrasteia's work unflinching as she towered over Edelgard.

"Adrasteia," Edelgard hissed, her hands balled into fists as the hulking monster moved forward.

The other Edelgard made a noise, even though her withered, bloodless lips did not move.

Edelgard felt a rage burning within her as she realized the monster was laughing, a cold, unholy sound.

"He may have planted the seed," the hollow, inhuman monster taunted. "But it was you who chose this path."

"You're not making any sense," Edelgard hissed.

"Is that so?" the monster mocked, the shifting beast thundering as she stalked forward. "I know what would drive you to embrace the power that he, and only he could offer."

Edelgard gritted her teeth as the monster stepped before her, her doppelganger lowering herself to meet Edelgard eye to eye.

"And do you want to know the answer to that?"

Edelgard gritted her teeth.

"You will bow to me your own power is not enough," the monster whispered, her voice echoing across the walls of the ruined throne room. "Because even with his cursed gifts, you could not cast down all your enemies."

Edelgard tried to take a step back, but found the stone wings of her other self blocking her escape.

"You will bow to me, because above all else, you cannot accept that all the blood you spilled was for nothing."

Edelgard threw a punch at the monster, though the attack found nothing but thin air.

"You cannot accept that the lives that were destroyed for you could never be repaid," The monster whispered, materializing at the doors to the throne room.

"Why- why are you telling me this?"

"Because I know those desires of yours," the monster continued, her empty red eyes burning into Edelgard. "Your desire to shatter those who wronged you, your desire to see your mother, just one more time."

Edelgard clenched her teeth, "And I can't do that without-"

"Some things are dictated by fate," the blank-eyed monster smirked. "There are some things that are destined to happen."

Edelgard felt a stab of something in her heart as the monster shifted into darkness, leaving her alone in the palace.

"And this?" the monster's voice echoed. "This is destined."

* * *

"Lady Edelgard?"

Edelgard gasped as she scrambled up, her eyes darting around the pre-dawn air, taking a moment to adjust to the dim light.

"Are you alright?" Hubert asked as he stood over Edelgard. "It seems as if you were having a nightmare."

Edelgard shook her head, "Are the others awake? I would prefer it if we were moving."

Hubert frowned as he turned away from Edelgard, "I believe the Professor is awake. He was patrolling the perimeter late last night."

Edelgard frowned and climbed from her bed roll.

"Do you need to wash off?" Hubert pressed. "You're drenched."

Edelgard looked down and grimaced as she realized her state of dishevelment, "Is there a river nearby?"

Hubert frowned as he turned his gaze around the yard, "There should be a source of water nearby, though I am unfamiliar with the terrain."

"It is alright," Edelgard dismissed Hubert with a wave. "Our primary concern has not changed. We need to leave for Daphnel territory before the delivery ship has left for Galatea territory."

Hubert nodded as he looked up, "Ah, Professor!"

Edelgard spun around to see Byleth approach, her face flushing as she realized how close her consort really was.

"I hope I'm not interrupting something important," Byleth greeted. "Still, the area appears secure. The rebels seem to have been isolated at Myrddin."

"Professor?" Hubert asked. "Have you located a source of water by any chance?"

"Hubert!" Edelgard exclaimed. "I'm alright! So stop with the water already."

Hubert, perhaps unsurprisingly, ignored her squawks of protest, "Lady Edelgard had a nightmare. It would be good if she was allowed some time alone."

"That's enough!" Edelgard declared. "I don't need to-"

"El," Byleth interjected, his voice stern as he crouched down. "Let me see you."

Edelgard gave Hubert a dirty look as Byleth crouched down, his eyes unreadable in the early morning light.

"You're washing yourself off," Byleth stood. "There's a reservoir to the east that the farmers use for their crops. We can wash up there."

"I- I don't need it," Edelgard protested.

Byleth gave Edelgard a stern glare in response, and Edelgard sighed as she resigned herself to her fate, turning away from Byleth as she did her best to hide her embarrassment.

"What was the nightmare about?" Byleth asked when Hubert was out of earshot.

Edelgard grimaced as she cast her gaze to the ground, "I- I was back in Enbarr."

"The palace," Byleth guessed. "With the monster."

"You remember?" Edelgard whispered as she looked at Byleth.

"That's not something I'll forget," Byleth tucked a stray lock of hair away. "Not in this lifetime."

Edelgard nodded at the words as they followed the path, her eyes taking in the quiet farmland around them.

"I always wondered what living in farm territory like this was like," Edelgard admitted. "All my life, I've been in cities. Enbarr, Fhirdiad, Garreg Mach…"

"Perhaps that grand tour of ours will include the farmlands of Fodlan?" Byleth suggested. "With all the regional sweets that exist."

Edelgard choked back a laugh as she shook her head, trying and failing to hide her delight at the prospect, "I- I think that's an idea I can get behind- once this is all over, of course."

Byleth nodded as they reached a crossroads, "To the right. We're almost there."

"I see it," Edelgard replied. "It- it looks nice."

Byleth didn't say anything in turn as he crouched next to the water, his trousers rolled up as he produced a handkerchief.

"It's rather cold," Byleth announced with a wince as he climbed into the ankle-deep river. "Still, it shouldn't be a problem."

Edelgard nodded as Byleth washed her arm, her eyes darting along the horizon, ever wary of people watching.

"Is the water alright?" Byleth asked as he dabbled at Edelgard's forehead, the cloth gentle as he went around her ear.

Edelgard replied with a slight purr, though she jerked away from Byleth a second later, unwilling to meet his eyes.

"Please be still," Byleth chided as he lowered the icy handkerchief. "I'm going to wash your neck."

Edelgard suppressed a giggle as Byleth found a weak spot, her hands clenched into fists as he inched the cloth down her sensitive spine.

"Did you enjoy that?" Byleth asked, his voice breaking what little willpower she still had.

"I did," Edelgard admitted with a chuckle, a smile on her lips. "I didn't- I didn't think you could be so gentle with it."

"Sometimes-" Byleth replied, his voice growing distant before he trailed off. "Sometimes we couldn't get enough water for a bath."

Edelgard felt a laugh die in her throat as she looked down at the water Byleth was wading in.

"I'm sorry," Edelgard whispered. "If- if I had been strong enough-"

"El," Byleth looked into her eyes. "There was nothing any of us could do that day. If it wasn't her, there would have been another in her place."

"I- I saw… me" Edelgard admitted as the couple fell into silence. "In the dream."

"The monster in the palace?" Byleth asked as he looked her in the eyes, his body rigid.

"Yes," Edelgard confirmed as she remembered the hollowed eyes of her doppelganger. "Her. She- she said that there were some things that were inevitable."

Byleth clenched his teeth as he dunked the cloth back under the water again, his hands fierce as he applied the handkerchief to Edelgard's hand.

"Professor!" Edelgard yelped.

Byleth flinched as he stepped back, pain flashing in his eyes as he took a deep breath, the offending piece of cloth falling to the river, "I've been told that before. That there were things that were inevitable."

"And?" Edelgard asked as she met his eyes.

"I don't believe that," Byleth replied, his eyes unwilling to look upon Edelgard as he reached for the fallen handkerchief. "We chose this fate, not the other way around."

Edelgard nodded as Byleth brought his hands to bear again, his touch careful as he moved to the other side of her face.

"We all had a choice to make," Byleth continued. "We chose to bring Hilda back to Garreg Mach, to let Claude go with Nader. To enter Fhirdiad, even as the city burned around us."

Edelgard felt the empty eyes burning in her mind fade at the words.

"We had a choice," Byleth finished, his eyes on hers as he brought the soft cloth against her legs. "And, in the end, I think we chose correctly."

Edelgard closed her eyes as Byleth let out a long breath.

"Professor?" Edelgard asked as she hopped forward, two tiny splashes the only hint Byleth would receive as Edelgard kissed him, her lips against his as the two of them embraced in the middle of the cool river.

"Thank you," Edelgard whispered as she pulled away, though her arms were still around his waist. "For walking this path with me, right to the end."

"We're not there yet," Byleth reminded Edelgard as he scooped her up in his arms, a yelp of surprise escaping Edelgard as he climbed from the stream. "But you're right. We walk this path together."

* * *

"Lord Myson," Mortis called in greeting as she stepped from the back door, her eyes flickering to the obelisk behind the older man before settling on his face.

"You are early," Myson crossed his arms as he turned his gaze to the door behind her. "And have you seen the other one?"

Mortis shook her head as she looked down, "I have not."

"Pity," Myson muttered. "Still, do not assume this will be a victory by default. There are other soldiers who may yet fit the bill, should you… disappoint."

Mortis grimaced as she looked away, "I will do my best."

"As do we all," Myson declared. "I will see if Periander's mentorship was enough."

"Is there something we should be doing?" Mortis asked.

Myson frowned as the sun peaked, his pale features wrinkled with disgust as he glared at the door behind her.

"We will change the obelisk to a more… manageable form," Myson explained as he turned away from Mortis. "Our rituals will require a great deal of arcane energy, and we must dismantle the obelisk to do so."

Mortis nodded as she followed the man forward, "Manageable form?"

"The obelisk is… diluted," Myson offered in response. "To concentrate the power within creates the real possibility of injuries, perhaps fatal."

"And we need three people for this?" Mortis asked.

"The previous Agastya, Periander, was able to divide a portion of the obelisk and concentrate it without assistance," Myson explained. "Still, we cannot risk an accident, and, as it stands, only Thales possesses the ability to concentrate the power alone. Since he is unavailable, the task falls to us."

"And what will we do with it?"

"That remains to be seen."

* * *

"You think he'll say anything? Claude asked as he exchanged a glance with the archer in the dining hall, the only other soul present in the early hours.

"Doubtful," the man replied with a shrug. "I've seen his type. Went to the grave with their secrets."

"What did you say your name was again?" Claude asked.

"Douglas," the man repeated. "I'm General Ubert's second."

"Ashe?" Claude remarked with a raised eyebrow.

The man gritted his teeth but nodded, "Still not sure why you are back here. I did hear you swear that you were leaving Fodlan for good, back in Derdriu."

Claude raised his hands in surrender, "Guilty as charged, friend."

Douglas scoffed and shook his head, taking a sip of the tea in his cup, "I hear you were on the scene when the Wind Caller came for them."

"I was," Claude replied. "Big winged dragon. Didn't like Tomas much."

"The guy torn to pieces?" Douglas raised an eyebrow. "Not the name I was given."

"And what was that?"

"Solon. Weird name. Never seen it before."

Claude felt a glimmer of disgust at the name even as he kept his face blank.

"Douglas, we're conducting an interrogation, Count Galatea wants you to lead it."

"Holst, was it?" Douglas stood up. "I can't promise results. I know a few dirty tricks, but nothing more."

Holst grimaced before he turned to Claude, his eyes watching the younger man for a second before he turned back to Douglas, "I did not make the request. That was Count Galatea."

Douglas nodded as he turned to the door, "Dungeons?"

"Correct. I've brought two of my men to bring you there."

Douglas raised an eyebrow before he stepped from the room, disappearing down the hall as Holst turned to Claude.

"Well," Claude started. "I guess it's nice to see you here."

Holst did not say a word as he sat down, gesturing to the hallway as he turned his gaze to Claude.

The door slammed shut, the echo ringing as Claude met Holst's gaze.

"Is this about Hilda?" Claude asked after a moment of silence.

"You are correct, Prince Khalid," Holst replied, his face grim.

"Call me Claude, all my friends do."

"Very well then, Claude," Holst continued. "I will get to the point."

"You want to see Hilda," Claude guessed.

"Minister von Vestra has promised me that she is alive," Holst explained. "Yet I do not believe him. He is a master of lies and misinformation."

"Well, you're right about that," Claude managed with a chuckle he concealed with a cough. "Hubert does like his lies, but when I last saw her, Hilda was alive."

"Was this in Derdriu?"

"It was," Claude confirmed. "After I was… exiled, Marianne came to me to say farewell."

"Edmund."

"That's her," Claude continued. "She and Caspar carried Hilda over to the port."

"Carried?" Holst turned pale, his hands clenched.

Claude grimaced, "Hilda was badly injured in the siege-"

"And how do I know she's still alive?" Holst snarled. "What if-"

"Calm down," Claude stammered, his hands raised in surrender. "Every healer in the Black Eagles was swarming her. They wouldn't have hurt her. And that's before what they did to Hubert."

Holst turned his gaze to Claude as he slumped back into his seat, "I- it has been several months since I have seen Hilda, and I fear for her safety."

"I get that. I know how much you care for her."

Holst swallowed as the door swung open, the murderous form of Douglas storming past the stunned duo.

"Douglas," Holst stammered.

"You man has escaped," Douglas snarled as he rummaged through a set of weapons in the corner. "Gather your men. We're going hunting."

"Escaped?" Holst barked. "How?"

"The bars on the cells have been melted off," Douglas snarled as he seized a powerful bow. "Nobody seems to have mentioned to me that your man was a mage."

"He was-" Claude confirmed.

"Then you should have him silenced at all times," Douglas barked. "Or at the very least, having both his arms broken."

Claude winced at the comment as Douglas handed him a smaller bow from his stash, "General Ubert spoke highly about your marksmanship skills."

"Wait-" Claude started. "You want me to go with you?"

"You know what they look like," Douglas hurried into the corridor. "And you know how to shoot. That's enough for me."

"You!" Holst barked at his man at the door. "Alert the Count."

"Already done." Douglas snapped as he burst into the early morning light. "Now- Prince Khalid, if you were a band of fugitives, where would you be going?"

* * *

"So you're saying that they are running into another war zone?" Dorothea spluttered at the messenger standing before her.

The man looked sheepish before he nodded, his gaze flickering to the other members of the Black Eagles Strike Force before them.

"We cannot let them run into danger without us," Ferdinand interjected as he stepped forward. "We must move quickly."

The messenger grimaced, "I- I do not believe that you could reach them before they leave-"

"Where is the Professor right now?" Seteth cut in, his eyes boring into the man before him.

"He was camped at Gloucester Manor," the messenger managed as he staggered back from the sudden intrusion from Seteth. "But he's set to leave for Daphnel territory today."

"Daphnel?" Ferdinand raised an eyebrow. "What is there at Daphnel that is so important? And what makes it so that we cannot meet them there?"

"Like I said before, there is a situation at Conand Tower that requires attention," the messenger managed. "There is a ship at the Daphnel River headed to Galatea territory."

"Adrasteia," Dorothea hissed.

The messenger blinked as he looked at her, "I'm sorry?"

"I do not understand the question of Conand Tower," Ferdinand shook his head. "There is a besieging army there, but the Professor is going in almost alone?"

"The Almyran force was intercepted before most of them were able to disembark from their ships," the messenger replied. "The entire force is in custody."

"Almyrans?" Ferdinand asked, turning to Dorothea, "Mortis was Almyran?"

Dorothea shook her head, "No, definitely not. But why are there Almyrans at Conand Tower?"

The man grimaced as he glanced back to his mount, as if he sought to flee.

"You will give us answers," Seteth barked, his voice authoritative as he seized the man by the collar. "What of this force of Almyrans at Conand Tower?"

"We discovered the fortress littered with corpses, but no army in sight," the messenger stammered. "Slaughtered. Eyewitness accounts say by the Wind Caller of the Sreng Desert."

"Eyewitness?" Seteth asked, his grip on the man's collar loosened.

"A certain Prince Khalid of the Almyran Empire," the man started, turning his gaze away from Seteth as he backed away from the towering man. "His mother, Lady Tiana von Riegan as well."

"Claude, Conand Tower?"

"I was given the name Khalid," the messenger replied. "I- I'm not sure who this Claude is."

"Claude swore that he would leave Fodlan forever," Dorothea argued as she turned to Ferdinand. "I don't believe he would be back this soon."

"I believed he would leave Fodlan for at least a decade," Ferdinand muttered as he shifted his gaze to Dorothea.

"If we miss the ship in the Daphnel River, is it still possible to make it to Galatea territory?" Dorothea asked the messenger.

The man grimaced as he turned to his mount, "The pass at Aeilil will be very difficult to cross without an airborne mount."

"Seteth, how many mounts do we have available?"

"I have my own wyvern," Seteth shook his head. "But no other flying mounts here."

"My lady," the messenger explained with exaggerated patience. "It would be almost impossible to cross the Aeilil Valley without a flying mount. It is why her highness is leaving for the ship in Daphnel territory as we speak."

"Why is there a ship there?"

"Is there something wrong, Seteth?" Dorothea asked.

"Both Daphnel County and Galatea County lack vessels larger than individual fishing vessels," Seteth explained. "Where did this ship come from?"

"Ah," the soldier raised an eyebrow. "The vessel came from the former Alliance fleet at Derdriu. We had recommissioned the ship when the Almyran vessel was sighted crossing into Fodlan's waters."

"And why is such a vessel stationed in the Daphnel River?" Seteth demanded. "Should it not be watching the Almyran vessel?"

"The terms agreed with Lady Tiana were that her troops were to be provided with fruit while in captivity," the soldier explained. "The vessel is currently collecting fruit from the fruit farms in Daphnel territory."

"Which is to be distributed to the prisoners in Galatea County," Seteth guessed.

"That is correct."

"As I understand it," Seteth continued, "This vessel in the Daphnel River was not meant to be transportation for Edelgard and her retinue."

"That is true." the messenger admitted.

"If the ship is to leave tonight, then it is certainly possible that some of us can make the trip over," Seteth argued.

The man frowned before he nodded, "Yes, that is correct."

"How many horses do we have access to?" Ferdinand asked a soldier standing behind him.

"We have several war horses for the anti-bandit patrols to the south," the man piped up. "We can spare some for those of you who need it, now that we've taken control of Myrddin again."

Ferdinand nodded as he turned back to the messenger, "Very well then, count me in."

* * *

"You-"

"Hello Myson," Spite greeted the other man. "My rituals today will require a significant amount of crystalized arcane."

"And that's why you are here," Myson guessed.

Spite nodded to Mortis in greeting, "My patience is not unlimited. Have you managed to extract the power needed?"

"Odesse has yet to show," Mortis grumbled.

Spite raised an eyebrow as he turned his gaze to Myson, grimacing when the man nodded.

"Very well then, I will take his place," Spite offered. "We will deal with his incompetence at a later time."

"This ritual of yours," Myson whispered as the two men closed with the obelisk, Mortis standing a distance behind the pair as they talked. "Just how much magic are you going to use?"

"As I understand it, there are at least several dozen dead who are to be returned," Spite explained. "At the very minimum, twenty individuals."

"Twenty?" Myson asked as he reached the obelisk.

"The spirits of four of my five squads were located within Zaharas," Spite explained. "The fifth squad did not respond to the relic that Thales wields. Should this experiment be successful, we may even be able to return elements of the strike teams seconded to Bias and Pittacus."

"Odd, which squad are you missing?"

"Olympia," Spite replied as he placed his hands on the obelisk. "Come, I will need your assistance with this."

"Have you ever-" Myson started, falling silent as Spite shook his head.

"Mortis, you will observe for the time being," Spite ordered. "Be ready to intervene at my order."

"Understood," Mortis called back. "Anything in particular?"

"Arcane barrier," Spite turned to the obelisk. "There's a chance the obelisk will react negatively to what I'm forcing into it."

"Right," Mortis managed as two orbs of arcane formed in her hands.

"Myson, I will concentrate the obelisk, but I will require you to cut the yield down to a workable size."

"Right," Myson muttered as he watched Spite press his hands on the obelisk. "How many?"

"Eight small," Spite ordered, his voice strained as an arc of lightning lashed from the obelisk, the magic reflected mere inches from his face. "Two large."

"Understood," Myson glared Mortis down. "Eight small and two large."

"Shush," Spite hissed, his face strained as the obelisk shuddered, a wisp of darkness flicking to life before the wind tore it away. "Mortis! Barrier!"

"On it!" Mortis cried as she shielded the trio, mere moments before a storm of darkness erupted from the obelisk.

"Myson," Spite barked as swirling faces pressed against the barrier. "Support Mortis. I can't promise our survival if that barrier fails."

"Right," Myson replied as he glanced at the panting Mortis. "And the cutting?"

"Impossible at this rate," Spite growled, "I'll need to stabilize the yield for cutting later."

"That would be for the best," Myson observed as a screaming face formed against the barrier. "How much longer?"

Spite frowned as the raging storm around him faded, "Odd. That- that's not supposed to happen."

"Periander?" Myson asked.

"The concentration is still in process," Spite muttered. "This storm isn't supposed to weaken."

"What could have caused that?" Mortis wondered.

"Mortis, can you see anything out of the storm?"

"Nothing," Mortis replied. "Just darkness and… faces?"

"As it should be," Spite muttered. "Yet the storm is weakening."

"How long until we can stabilize it?" Myson called.

"Mortis, can you expand the barrier?"

"I- only for a minute," Mortis replied.

"Myson, get ready for the cut."

"Are you sure?"

"Do it. I'm not sure why the storm is fading, but this is an opportunity we are not passing up."

"I understand."

"Mortis," Spite barked. "Expand the barrier."

"I'll do my best," Mortis hissed as the barrier expanded against the storm of darkness. .

"Myson," Spite growled as half of the shrunken obelisk slipped through the barrier. "Now."

Myson closed his eyes as he cut himself away from the casting of the barrier, taking a moment to draw a calming breath before he struck at the stone trapped within.

* * *

"Hello there Ferdie," Dorothea greeted the orange haired man as he climbed on his horse.

"Dorothea," Ferdinand replied. "Are you-"

"I'm coming with you," Dorothea declared, her tone leaving no room for debate. "I… I can't just walk away from this."

"Perhaps-"

"Ferdie," Dorothea interjected, her voice unflinching. "I've made my mind up."

"Are you sure?" Ferdinand asked as he climbed off his mount, his eyes mirroring hers.

"Ferdie, you're not stopping me. If you don't help me, then I'm going to Conand Tower on foot."

"Dorothea," Ferdinand pleaded, his voice gentle. "I must ask you-"

"Why am I doing this?" Dorothea shot back, staring nose to nose with Ferdinand. "Because I'm not going to be thrown to the side like this."

"Nobody-"

"Let me finish, Ferdie," Dorothea hissed. "When I met her in the infirmary, I swore to myself that I would see this through. To give her a way out that didn't involve bloodshed."

"You think she- you think she's willing to surrender to us?" Ferdinand raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know," Dorothea replied. "But if I don't try, I'll never find out."

"Ferdinand," a voice called from behind the pair. "Let her go."

"Seteth?" Ferdinand turned to face the newcomer. "Where's Flayn?"

"She's not coming with us," Seteth replied, his face hard. "I'm leaving her with my brother."

"Surely there's more you can do at Garreg Mach-" Ferdinand offered.

Seteth shook his head, "My brother Macuil, the one you know as the Wind Caller, is a reclusive paranoiac. If you were to encounter him, I believe it will end in bloodshed."

"I see," Ferdinand muttered as he looked back at Dorothea, "But why-"

"Because I know the pain of being left out," Seteth replied, his face an expression of longing as he glanced back at the bridge and the distant form of Flayn and Indech. "And not being able to go back to change that."

Ferdinand closed his eyes for a moment before he turned back to his horse, "Dorothea, I want you to sit in front of me when we ride."

"I understand," Dorothea climbed onto the horse, her hands shaking as she clung to the beast's mane.

"Hold on tight," Ferdinand climbed onto the horse. "We'll need to go quickly if we were to cross over to Daphnel territory, and I won't be able to live with myself if you get hurt."

* * *

"Are we ready to leave?" Edelgard asked as the rest of the strike force gathered at the northern fence of the ruined compound.

"We are," Hubert replied as the various members of the group nodded their confirmation.

"Very well," Edelgard turned to Ignatz. "What's the shortest road into Daphnel territory?"

"There's a plaza to the north," Ignatz explained. "There's a road to the west there."

"Plaza?" Ashe stammered as he exchanged a glance with Ingrid.

"Is something wrong?" Hubert interjected.

"The plaza holds some form of gateway into Zaharas," Ingrid explained. "There was another gateway at Conand Tower that Adrasteia used for travel."

"Very interesting," Hubert offered. "We will take a look there, but we do not have the means to access this gateway of yours."

"May I ask you how fast travel was?" Edelgard asked Ingrid.

"He- he knew his way through Zaharas," Ingrid explained. "We were able to move from Conand Tower to the plaza in less than a day."

Hubert raised an eyebrow, "Any stops?"

"One," Ingrid explained. "We- we were attacked by undead spirits within the depths of Zaharas."

"Spirits?" Hubert looked intrigued.

"Look at Freckles, he does look like he saw a ghost."

"How long were you held up?" Edelgard asked.

"A few hours. Cornelia was exhausted in the battle with the spirits."

"Interesting," Hubert offered, nodding to Edelgard. "Still, we need to press forward."

"When we reach this plaza, I want you to show us," Edelgard ordered.

"Of course," Ingrid managed as Sylvain patted Ashe on the back, the silver haired knight flinching as he hurried down the road.

"Let's go," Edelgard muttered as the group trotted out of the ruins of the Gloucester estate.

"El?" Byleth whispered as Edelgard turned to face him.

"Professor?" Edelgard whispered.

Byleth kissed her, his lips against hers as Hubert almost fell from his horse.

"El, we'll get to the bottom of this," Byleth promised. "Never forget that."

Edelgard felt a smile spread across her face as she looked at the sun rising above the horizon.

"That we will."

* * *

"Stabilizing the yield," Spite managed as he turned his gaze to Mortis, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Mortis muttered. "I'm not used to holding a shield up continuously."

"Yield has been cut down to size," Myson called, his voice strained. "Eight smaller pieces."

"We will only need the smaller set for the time being," Spite explained. "We won't need the larger set until we reach Fhirdiad."

"Fhirdiad?" Myson asked.

"The final resting place of the Immaculate One," Spite replied, his shirt soaked in perspiration. "Now, help me hold the barrier. I believe Mortis is on the verge of collapse."

"I'm fine," Mortis protested.

"And if you are incorrect in your assessment, we die," Myson barked, his hands pushing on the walls of the barrier.

"What was that?" Mortis asked after a moment of silence.

"The faces in the storm?" Spite asked as he pushed his power into the barrier.

"Were they- the souls of the lost?"

"No," Spite shook his head, "Scraps of power. Unusable byproduct of the concentration process. Unfortunate, but an unavoidable part of the ritual."

"Storm is clearing," Myson observed, his face dark. "What- why is Thales here?"

Spite turned around, his eyes dancing over Thales before turning to his sister, "Odd."

"Lowering the barrier now," Mortis called as the shield faltered, the dome of light flickering before fading into the air.

"I am surprised to see you here, Lord Periander," Thales greeted. "You were not supposed to commence the ritual."

"Odesse was not present when the ritual was to begin," Myson chimed in.

"I am aware of that," Thales gestured to a form behind him. "Do you recognize this?"

"Is that... Odesse?" Myson muttered. "Half its body has been obliterated."

"Was," Aranea frowned. "He wasn't under your barrier when the ritual began."

"We started without him," Spite explained. "Time was of the essence."

Thales nodded, "I see that your ritual was successful."

Spite turned to the diminished obelisk behind him, having been reduced to a human sized shape, "The storm of spent energy weakened midway through the ritual, and now we have the reason why."

"Do we have the materials necessary to continue?" Thales asked.

"We should," Spite nodded to the obelisk behind him. "Myson, show him your cut."

"Right," Myson stated, a small, shifting stone in his hands.

"Well done," Thales murmured, turning his gaze to the obelisk behind the group. "You are dismissed."

Spite nodded as Myson stepped back into the fortress of Shambhala, exchanging a glance with Aranea as he left.

"Lord Periander," Thales barked.

"Agastya?" Spite replied, taking a bow as he turned to Thales.

"See that- it is put to good use," Thales ordered, gesturing to the dead man in the dirt.

"There should be enough blood left for a single full vial," Spite offered as he crouched down to the dead man. "Still, it is too risky to use a single sample. We would need more volunteers over the day."

"And you will have them, Lord Periander."

"A- Lady Pittacus, would you care to run to my office? My tools are within my desk."

Aranea blinked before she glanced to Thales, "Ah, right. I can do that. Mortis, come along now."

Thales cleared his throat as Aranea turned to him, "My Agastya?"

"Lady Pittacus, do refer to Lady Bias by her title," Thales stated. "It is rude not to."

Aranea exchanged a silence glance with Spite before she turned to Mortis, "Yes, of course. Lady Bias. Please, come with me."

* * *

**AN:** Chapter 36 is done.

Feed your author with reviews. Seriously. Feed your authors.

Next week: Chapter 1 of Seven Years (Expected to be 4-5k words).

Next chapter for The Post-Game Series (2 weeks):

Mortis- Alone

Aranea- Before the night

Edelgard- The Daphnel River

Ferdinand- Together

Claude- One shot


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37: Vae Victus, part 4.

* * *

"Who gave you permission-"

"Count Galatea," Douglas interrupted the old man. "He has my authority to join the hunt. In fact, I have authorized him to lead the hunt."

Claude glanced back at the old man before he looked around the territory.

"Got any ideas?" Holst turned to Claude.

"It would depend on where they thought they were safe," Claude admitted after a minute of thought. "They could be anywhere."

"If we're going to talk about safety, then we can forget about Conand Tower." Douglas reasoned. "That place is littered with corpses."

"And our soldiers as well." Holst added. "To go up there would be suicidal."

"What about to go south?"

"Unlikely," Douglas turned to Caspar. "Charon territory is fairly unfriendly to outsiders, and has a strong garrison."

"Ailell?" a soldier suggested.

"Suicide," Holst scoffed.

"The mountains pass of Ailell see little food and even less water." Douglas shook his head. "They would die of thirst on the climb alone."

"You have experience in such things?" Claude asked.

"Miklan climbed a mountain once," Douglas sneered. "Lost a quarter of his troops before the second night."

"Miklan?" Count Galatea snarled. "You followed that ruffian?"

"I led his forces," Douglas shot back. "I kept his books and fenced his goods. You have a problem with that?"

"Gentlemen," Holst interrupted, placing a hand on Count Galatea's chest. "That's enough. We need to hunt down our prisoner."

"What about your forests?" Claude asked. "They might want some wild game to keep hunger at bay."

Count Galatea scoffed.

"The forests of Faerghus rarely have game anymore." Douglas explained. "Every bad harvest, the farmers slaughter half the forest to get by in the winters."

"Is this true?" Holst turned to Count Galatea.

"The ruffian is right," Count Galatea replied. "There are few animals left to hunt, especially given the amount of poaching that the war has seen, there may be no more animals for them to hunt."

"What's this ruckus about?"

"Mother," Claude turned around. "We're discussing the escaped prisoners."

"Yes, indeed," Tiana muttered. "Holst, may I ask you a question?"

"Yes, my lady?"

"How many arrows are made from Goneril Cedar on an annual basis?"

"Goneril Cedar?" Holst raised an eyebrow. "Very few. The trees are rare, and only found close to the Airmid River."

"That's odd," Tiana continued. "Then how would we find entire quivers of arrows on their dead?"

"And you mention this now?" Count Galatea turned to his former classmate. "Why did you not mention this earlier?"

"That does not make any sense." Holst shot back. "Goneril territory is weeks away from here. And that's assuming they are able to make their way through the Ailell pass."

"That's a good point," Douglas interjected. "But we still don't know how they reached Conand Tower in the first place."

"Not through the northern straits," Tiana scoffed. "We would have seen them."

"Unlikely they would have made it through Charon territory." Count Galatea reasoned. "And certainly they did not make it through my land."

"And that leads us nowhere still," Holst grumbled. "We have no means of determining where they came from."

"Count Galatea," Claude turned to the older man. "Could I ask a favour?"

Count Galatea raised an eyebrow as he turned his gaze to Claude. "Yes?"

"Is it possible for you to send a messenger to the imperial forces in Charon territory?"

"Why would I need to do that?"

"The only thing we can safely assume at this point is that the prisoners aren't heading back to Conand Tower," Claude replied. "Combined with the fact that they don't have a way to sail away, that means that they're almost certainly looking to escape via Ailell."

"Then let's find them and punch them-" Caspar started, pounding a fist into his hand.

"No," Claude continued. "We can't be sure if they're lying low for the time being. It's very much possible they fled into the woods to regroup before moving out."

"You have a point," Holst admitted after a moment of silence. "That is a feasible plan."

"Holst, can I trust you to cordon off the eastern village?" Claude asked.

"You can," Holst replied. "Still, why is it that we need to alert the garrison at Charon?"

"We can't be sure that this guy isn't going to flee to Garreg Mach and hide amongst the refugees there." Claude explained. "We would need the soldiers at Charon to be on guard if I was wrong."

Count Galatea paused before he nodded.

"I'll take my forces east, garrison along the villages along the mountain steppes." Holst volunteered. "I'll leave tracking them to you then."

"Right," Claude turned to the distant treeline. "I guess I'll be going then."

"Nope, I'm coming with you," Tiana interjected. "No complaining about it."

"Ruffian," Count Galatea snapped. "Go with them."

Douglas grimaced as he turned to Caspar. "Go with Holst."

"Why is that?" Caspar shot back.

"Because we need to be _quiet _on this mission."

* * *

"I've picked out a few potential squadrons for you," Aranea offered as she stood next to Mortis. "I think you'll like them."

"Most of Shambhala hates me," Mortis pointed out as she leaned against the railings of the catwalk. "What makes you think this group is any different?"

"Because they're too afraid of a member of the Septet to disagree with your orders," Aranea replied. "To do so is an offense you can punish with execution."

Mortis grimaced as she turned to the staircase leading to the level below them.

"Something on your mind?" Aranea cooed.

"I'll need to meet them," Mortis replied. "But if I'm going to be honest, I'd rather not have to watch my back whenever I'm out of sight of you or Spite."

"They are there for your protection," Aranea reminded the younger woman. "If you intend to head to the front lines, you'll need their assistance."

Mortis shook her head as she turned away. "Like I said, I don't want to watch my back, especially if we end up in battle."

"Mortis," Aranea's voice was frigid, and the younger woman stopped. "Listen very closely to me. I will only say this once."

"You have my attention." Mortis stammered, wincing at the anger in Aranea's voice.

"For the last six years, you were always protected by anonymity. You travelled across Fodlan with freedom because nobody knew who you were and what you looked like." Aranea stepped close to Mortis, her eyes burrowing into the younger woman. "But that ended when you went to Garreg Mach. No longer are you a faceless ghost."

"Right," Mortis muttered. "But what about Spite?"

"My brother was fortunate to spend his life in times of peace, with no organized army out for his blood." Aranea shot back. "You do not have that luxury."

"The entire Black Eagles Strike Force wanted him dead." Mortis observed.

"And until he intervened on your behalf, none of them knew what he looked like." Aranea said. "Not even that scheming rat von Vestra."

Mortis sighed as she rubbed her eyes, having no answer to the older woman. "When do we leave?"

"Nightfall," Aranea replied, a hint of smugness in her voice. "You will select your battle squadron by that time."

"Right," Mortis replied. "Do you have notes on them, or must I see them for myself?"

Aranea scoffed. "I've had less than one day to put the teams together, and you expect me to have notes on them?"

"Does Spite?"

"No, he doesn't take notes when dealing with other Agarthan forces."

Mortis raised an eyebrow. "He doesn't?"

"No, he keeps it in his head. No hard evidence that way."

"Is Yurius in any of the groups?"

"He's isolated in one of Chilon's battalions," Aranea scoffed. "Skirmishing most likely."

Mortis nodded as she stepped toward the armoury. "Is my armour suit ready?"

"You'll have to speak to the arms master, but there are… perks when it comes to being one of the Septet."

Mortis closed her eyes for a moment before she turned away from Aranea. "I'll find you once I'm properly dressed. It would make for a poor impression if I arrived unprepared."

"Find me in my office when you're ready." Aranea replied as Mortis disappeared into the armoury. "We have… some final preparations to discuss."

* * *

"Are you absolutely sure about this?"

"Ferdie, I'm not going to turn around." Dorothea replied. "And especially not if it's going to hold you up."

"Then I have to apologize to you in advance," Ferdinand responded. "Because this road is looking rather poor up ahead."

"And how does that change things for us?" Dorothea asked. "Can we reach Daphnel territory before Edie and the Professor leave?"

"I'll need to push the horse harder," Ferdinand replied. "And that means that we'll need to switch positions."

"You're not going to trick me like that." Dorothea shot back to the man behind her. "I'm coming with you, like it or not."

"It is no trick!" Ferdinand protested, though he had a slight quiver in his voice. "But I must ask you to hold on to me when that happens."

"Hold on?" Dorothea asked as Ferdinand slowed the horse down. "What do you mean by that?"

"I must push our mount to his limits," Ferdinand replied. "But that means we'll need to go at a much faster speed than what we are going at now."

"And you're worried for me," Dorothea finished as she climbed from the horse, wincing as she stretched her legs. "Worried I might slip and fall."

"And hurt yourself in the process." Ferdinand finished, his face grim. "So please Dorothea, if you still intend to come with me, hold on tight. I do not wish to see you hurt."

Dorothea paused as Ferdinand climbed to the front of the horse, taking his hand to climb on behind him. "Is this alright?"

"I- I must ask that you bring your arms around my waist," Ferdinand stammered. "For you may fall otherwise."

"Like this?" Dorothea asked as she shifted forward, her fingers linking up over Ferdinand's breastplate. "Is this good enough?"

Ferdinand didn't respond, but the horse began to trot forward.

"If not for Adrasteia and Mortis, this would be nice," Dorothea whispered, the words slipping by her lips as the wind rushed against them. "Perhaps- perhaps sometime after the war, we could ride like this."

"It would be my honour," Ferdinand replied as the horse galloped forward. "To ride with you in a beautiful, peaceful world."

"I'll hold you to that promise," Dorothea whispered as she watched the golden fields rush by. "To ride in a beautiful, peaceful world."

* * *

"Has my son found success with the books he has been studying?" Count Hevring asked as he sat next to Hanneman.

"Lindy- Linhardt has been reading books in his room nonstop," Lysithea replied. "His room is just filled with books and dirty plates."

"I see," Count Hevring replied, his eyes studying the young woman before him. "You- you are the daughter of Count Ordelia, yes?"

Lysithea shifted her eyes as she squirmed in her seat, her jaw dropping as Count Hevring grimaced, his question answered without words.

"He- he mentioned you before," Count Hevring said. "That he had succeeded once, but at a terrible cost."

Lysithea clenched her fists as she looked down at the table, unwilling to meet the older man's eyes.

"I did not know what he meant then," Count Hevring admitted. "But- if nothing else, I wish to apologize for everything the Adrestian Empire did to your family."

"Then you have a lot to apologize for," Hanneman interjected.

"I know," Count Hevring replied. "Which is why I'm starting now."

"If I may ask, what was it that made you join the Insurrection?" Hanneman asked after a minute of silence. "I didn't think that you, of all people, would be one of the seven."

"Because I was afraid," Count Hevring replied. "There was a certain… threat that my bloodline would pay the price if I were to refuse."

"Who was it?" Hanneman asked.

"Bruno," Count Hevring said. "Bruno was supposedly behind the threat."

"Was it true?" Hanneman asked. "Was Marquess Vestra truly behind it?"

"Adrasteia said no," the man replied, his eyes flickering to Lysithea. "He said that the true power behind the rebellion had no interest in my holdings."

"Father?"

Count Hevring turned to face his son, their eyes meeting.

"I think I found something." Linhardt whispered as he stepped forward, his stance shaky as he slammed into the floor.

* * *

"I see it!" Ashe called from the front of the convoy. "It's the plaza!"

"Zaharas," Byleth muttered as he slowed his horse, his eyes darting to the white pillars surrounding the corners of the old plaza. "It's the same as-"

"The one within the Forbidden Forest," Hubert interjected. "With Solon and Kronya."

"So it is," Edelgard said, dismounting as she neared the pillars. "Do we have the means to activate it?"

"Adrasteia used some form of stone," Ingrid interjected. "Though I'm not sure what it was."

"Solon used the heart of Kronya to trap me within Zaharas last time," Byleth said, his eyes hard. "Perhaps that is what Adrasteia himself used?"

Edelgard pursed her lips before she turned back to Byleth. "Whatever it is, we don't have the means to open a gateway to Zaharas ourselves."

"I agree," Hubert added, turning his gaze to Ignatz. "How far are we to the Daphnel river?"

"We're close to the border." Ignatz explained. "If we continue on the road, we should find the river before sunset."

"That's good," Hubert said, turning back to his horse. "Lady Edelgard, Professor, shall we?"

"We have a mission," Edelgard barked as she turned back to Byleth, sharing a nod. "This place provides nothing for us."

Byleth placed a hand on Edelgard's shoulder as she turned around, Byleth holding up a single finger as he gestured for her to stay behind.

"Professor?" Edelgard whispered as she fell behind the main group.

"El, if what they're saying is true, then we might be walking into a trap." Byleth whispered as he walked alongside Edelgard, his stride slow and measured as he kept a wary eye on the rest of the group. "If it comes down to it, I want you to stay away from me, just in case."

The mention of the trap in the forest hung in the air for a moment as Edelgard shook her head. "I won't allow that. We swore to walk this path together, remember?"

Byleth grimaced as he squeezed Edelgard's hand. "El, I don't want to lose you."

Edelgard squeezed his hand back as she climbed onto her horse. "Let's just promise to be careful."

Byleth held her hand for a second more before he let go, climbing on his horse for a minute more before he hurried after Edelgard.

* * *

"What a shitshow this turned out to be," Douglas growled as he crouched into a bush, his eyes darting around the trees as he slipped forward. "Probably should have killed them back at Conand Tower."

"It doesn't make sense how they could slip by Count Galatea's cordon." Claude admitted. "There were twenty of them, at the very least. I don't think anyone could have managed it."

"You have a point there." Douglas said.

"How do you think they did it?" Claude asked after a moment of silence, his legs stretching as he sat down. "You know these areas better than most people."

"I honestly don't know," Douglas admitted. "Miklan couldn't be convinced to sneak if his life depended on it.

"How did you keep stealing for so long?" Claude asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Petty backwater politics." Douglas scoffed. "Lots of people out there with a grudge against other shitty towns. That and the town guards weren't paid well enough."

"Town guards weren't paid?"

"Not well enough to take on an entire host of bandits, no." Douglas explained. "And those were the places with money. The poor towns didn't have soldiers on hand, period."

"The knights didn't do anything?"

"Most of them were scared of Miklan." Douglas sneered. "He was strong enough to fight Glenn Fraldarius in training, and there was no Glenn alive to hold him back anymore."

"Why didn't they even try?"

"Because dying to some random brigand without a Crest is a severe dishonour to the so called noble knights." Douglas chuckled, his tone bitter. "It was better to pretend that the roving band of bandits preying on the weakest dregs of their towns weren't real. Better than facing a seasoned bandit lord in combat."

"Is it possible that our current enemies did the same?" Claude asked.

Douglas shook his head. "The roads to and from Garreg Mach are crawling with guards and checkpoints. And from what I heard, Charon territory is guarded with elite regiments of the imperial legions. They wouldn't back down from a fight so easily."

"Could they be from the Adrestian Empire? Perhaps one of Hubert's secret projects?"

"If they were, then General Ubert and General Galatea shouldn't be missing." Douglas chuckled. "And imperial arrows are made from Brigid Birch, not Goneril Cedar."

"Could I see?" Claude asked.

Douglas paused before he drew a long arrow from his quiver.

"Thanks," Claude said. "Certainly a lot lighter than the wood we took from the dead guys."

"Arrowhead is different too," Claude admitted. "This thing looks a lot like the arrowheads I'm used to."

"An odd choice of wood and an odd choice of arrowhead," Douglas observed. "Something tells me that these bastards aren't Alliance remnants."

"They didn't recognize me, so certainly not." Claude said.

"That is good information to know." Douglas muttered as he ducked, his body tense as his eyes narrowed.

"What is it?" Claude whispered, having slid into a crouch as Douglas nocked an arrow in his bow.

"I see someone," Douglas muttered. "There shouldn't be any of our people in the forest."

"Is it them?" Claude asked, his boots inching in the dirt as he tried to get a better look.

"See for yourself," Douglas hissed. "It's not one of my men."

Claude swallowed as he raised his gaze to the figure behind him, the man's pale skin and harsh features burned into his mind.

"It's one of them." Claude whispered.

"Do I shoot?" Douglas whispered back, his bow raised, high enough to fire the arrow, but not yet high enough for his unwitting target to see him.

"No, we need them alive."

Douglas nodded as he lowered his bow. "Then we wait for them to make a move."

* * *

"Is the armour holding up well?"

Mortis grimaced as she glanced at the only spare chair in the room. "It fits well, but the shoulder plates are rather redundant. Why does everything have to be so spiky?"

Spite frowned as he glanced up from behind the desk. "I see you've taken the Arrow of Indra."

"This?" Mortis asked as she raised her spear. "The forge master insisted I take it."

"It's a weapon type we've been experimenting with," Spite explained. "It's based on Arcane Crystals rather than Agarthium. Agarthium is in rather short supply, and what we do have are dedicated to keeping the Titanus regiments operational."

Mortis nodded as she leaned on the weapon. "What was it that you called me here for?"

"I believe you wanted to learn about the support battalions that Aranea has drawn up." Spite replied. "And in particular, the squadron leaders behind them."

Mortis nodded. "Would be helpful. I don't know the rank and file all that well."

"I'm aware of that." Spite said, "Still, Aranea and I have been discussing what support you desire to fight alongside."

"Do you have any preferences?" Aranea interrupted her brother.

"Not particularly," Mortis admitted. "Because, you know, I've always operated alone- except with Yurius, of course."

"He's not available, if that's something you are asking." Spite said. "He's classified as potentially a deserter."

"Monica?" Mortis asked.

"Indeed." Spite rose to his feet. "While I didn't specify in his file the exact nature of his… attachments, the fact that such a black mark exists on his file means that Chilon is going to keep a personal eye on him, at least until this campaign is over."

Mortis nodded as she turned to Aranea. "Are you bringing along your own units?"

"Addy is bringing with him a group of scouts."

"I might require a medic, but as I understand it, our warriors are limited as it is."

"As for me, I would bring an arcane bombardment unit," Aranea said.

"The same as Arianrhod?" Mortis asked.

"Similar," Aranea shrugged. "But no, I had those purged after you left."

"Why was that?" Mortis raised an eyebrow.

"I thought at the time that our puppet had come on the orders of Thales." Aranea explained. "Needless to say, I was wrong on that assumption."

"And she buried an axe in your chest." Spite said, his voice low.

"An eye for an eye isn't your style, dearest Addy." Aranea snorted. "Just stick to obliterating anything that gets in the way."

"Let's get back to the topic of your support regiment," Spite sighed, turning his gaze to Mortis. "I trust you understand how to field a regiment?"

Mortis shook her head as Spite drew a small book from the corner of the room.

"As a member of the Septet, you have the authority to commandeer an entire squadron of soldiers to your bidding." Spite explained. "Though it means you must personally issue the order to the squad leader in question."

Mortis nodded. "What are you thinking?"

"You could go with an arcane bombardment regiment," Spite said after a moment of silence. "It would provide you an additional means to eliminate targets from range, or provide you with the means to change the terrain into your favour."

"We do have a few of those." Aranea said. "Though since you'll be a frontline officer, I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Fair point." Spite said. "We are rather short on healers, but perhaps a group of skirmishers and light infantry?"

Mortis raised an eyebrow. "I'm intrigued."

"An aggressive bodyguard regiment." Spite raised a hand as Mortis opened her mouth to protest. "They won't get in the way of your fighting, but they can split off at your command."

"But?"

"Infantry regiments are generally unhappy to guard mages. Too boring for them."

"She'll be on the front lines," Aranea cut in. "I don't think that's a problem."

"How would I approach them?" Mortis asked.

"Walk up to their leader and tell him you're requisitioning his forces as a member of the Septet." Spite said.

"Can you show me?" Mortis asked.

"Only in secret." Spite replied. "Members of the Septet aren't supposed to influence each other's choices when it comes to fielding regiments."

"Is this true?" Mortis turned to Aranea.

"It is," Aranea said. "Still, considering I wasn't a member of the Septet until recently, this was never a problem."

"I'll give you the information about where Narik likes to spend his time, but the rest is on you." Spite said. "In the event he's on patrol, you can approach him within Zaharas."

Mortis nodded as Spite tore a fresh sheet of paper from a book.

"Don't let him see that." Spite muttered as he handed her the folded sheet of paper.

* * *

"Once we pass this bridge, we'll be within Daphnel territory." Ignatz called as he brought a hand to his hair.

"Is that the Daphnel river below us?" Byleth asked as he dismounted, leading his horse to a small tributary off the side of the road.

"It should be," Ignatz said as Byleth handed him a small canteen. "Thanks for the water, professor."

"Lovely sunset we're having, isn't it?" Ashe asked, his jaw falling as he watched the sun turn the river a shade of brilliant orange.

"It is beautiful, yes," Ingrid sighed.

"Not as beautiful as you." Sylvain joked as Ingrid rolled her eyes.

"A moment, if you will, Lady Edelgard."

Byleth frowned as he turned to Hubert, his eyes meeting the shadowy confidant for a minute before he followed Edelgard away from the main group.

"Professor, Lady Edelgard," Hubert greeted. "I would suggest that we notify the imperial forces in this area quickly. If we were to move forward as night falls, there is a chance that they mistake us for a hostile force."

Edelgard nodded. "We'll leave in a few minutes, once the horses have drank their fill."

"Very good." Hubert said, though his face was still hard.

"Hubert," Edelgard sighed. "What is it that worries you?"

"The Daphnel region has two particularly negative distinctions that concern me," Hubert explained. "Firstly, we did slay Lady Judith at Myrddin. We cannot expect a truly warm welcome from the locals."

"Understandable," Edelgard said. " The second?"

"Our garrisons in the region, especially with the disbanding of the conscripts, are very low. The vast majority of Imperial troops are centred around major trade routes and former Alliance territories. If we are attacked by another rebel force, we cannot rely on a loyalist force to have our backs."

Edelgard nodded. "Indeed problems that need to be addressed. What would you do?"

Hubert grimaced at the prospect. "If possible, I would avoid interacting with the locals, and make contact directly with the troops Holst has sent here."

"We would need a flying mount for that," Byleth observed. "Ingrid would-"

"No, not Lady Ingrid," Hubert interjected. "Her- her membership within House Galatea would be problematic if discovered."

Byleth exchanged a glance with Edelgard before he glanced at Hapi.

"There is no other choice," Hubert grimaced. "Still, if possible, I would like to avoid… flying."

"I'll go then," Byleth said, exchanging a glance with Edelgard. "Just keep Ingrid out of sight."

"Be safe," Edelgard whispered as she reached up, pressing her lips to Byleth's throat before stepping back.

Byleth nodded as he turned to Hapi.

* * *

"You're Narik?"

The man said nothing as he aimed the pool cue, a single stroke sending a red ball into a corner socket.

"Who's asking?" the man asked, his voice low and guarded.

"My name is Bias," Mortis replied. "I have need of your services."

There was a shift in the room as a dozen sets of eyes turned to Mortis.

"Bias was slain at Conand Tower." Narik observed as he stepped away from the table, his eyes still on the game before him.

"I am her successor." Mortis stated, her tone hard. "I am requisitioning your squadron for the campaign ahead."

"Leaders of the Septet are to be guarded by the Dark Magic Corps," Narik replied as he teased another shot, the tip of the cue stopping just short of striking the white ball. "Are they not enough for you?"

"No," Mortis replied. "I expect to fight along the front lines, not cover behind waves of bodies."

Narik paused, his cue still primed for the hit before he turned his gaze to Mortis.

"Bias, was it?"

Mortis gritted her teeth as the man stepped away from the table, his frame muscular despite the fact that her heels gave her a height advantage.

"Why was it that you came here?"

Mortis tightened her grip on the Arrow of Indra. "I don't understand your question."

"May I speak without the… formalities?" Narik asked.

Mortis glanced around the room around her before nodding her agreement.

"Adrasteia led you here, didn't he?"

Mortis said nothing.

"A word of advice," Narik turned back to the table. "Your eyes tell too much."

Mortis fell silent. "Is that a no?"

Narik cracked a shot in response, a dark ball disappearing from the table as a crack of laughter from one of the soldiers in the room caused Mortis to grit her teeth.

"As Adrasteia has undoubtedly explained to you, I have no choice in the matter." Narik said. "But I would suggest you march alongside the sorcerer regiments rather than a soldier's regiment."

"And why is that?"

"Because sorcerers who attempt to command regular regiments tend to have very short lives." Narik replied.

"Is that a threat?"

"No." Narik replied. "But for you to believe it to be a threat shows me that Adrasteia is a poor teacher."

Mortis grimaced as she turned on the men within the room. "How many men do you have?"

"Twelve." Narik replied, moving his hand to wave at the men in the room. "Four of them are on patrol, but, in time, you will get to know them very well."

Mortis grimaced as she turned away. "Fine."

"Hurry along now, Lady Bias." Narik said. "I must make preparations of my own."

* * *

"Is he awake yet?"

Count Hevring pressed a finger to his lips as he turned to glare at the woman behind him.

Constance von Nuvelle fell silent as she stepped back from the bed, her face sheepish as Count Hevring placed a light duvet over Lysthiea's shoulders, his gaze on his son, still sleeping next to the tiny girl next to him.

Count Hevring sighed as he stood up, wiping away a lock of Lystieha's hair from her face before he turned to Constance.

"I'm afraid not." he said as he stepped from the infirmary, nodding a greeting to Mercedes as he passed her. "Did the book yield some results?"

"Naturally." Constance replied. "The book is about the medical effects of blood transfusions."

Count Hevring blinked. "Pardon?"

"Blood transfusions of magically talented people into magically inept people to be exact." Constance continued, shaking her head with a small laugh.

Count Hevring glanced behind him at the door, content that the infirmary door was firmly shut before he turned back to the cheerful blonde.

"And what did these experiments result in?" Count Hevring asked.

"Immense pain, loss of bladder control, and instant death, to name a few."

Count Hevring grimaced. "I see. That is… information that is good to know."

Constance caught on. "Is that information not important?"

"No, it is not" Count Hevring replied. "In this case, we are looking to… remove the magical ability of certain individuals."

Constance looked horrified at the words. "But- but why would you do that? Is it not good to learn magic?"

"It is good to learn magic, yes," Count Hevring replied. "But it is not worth losing your life over."

"Is this for Hapi?" Constance asked. "The beast problem is under control, surely?"

Count Hevring sighed and shook his head. "I see that my… metaphor has not been successful."

"Please, do tell." Constance said.

"Two of your classmates have additional Crests implanted in their bodies." Count Hevring explained. "These Crests were implanted through the dangerous procedure of Blood Reconstruction."

Constance blinked. "Blood Reconstruction?"

"You seem confused." Count Hevring observed. "You have walked amongst them for five years, and yet you did not know of that fact?"

Constance looked mortified for a moment before she took a step back from the count. "I- I must think about this more."

Count Hevring grimaced as he watched the woman flee through the halls, his head shaking as he returned to the infirmary with his son.

* * *

"Rare for all of Shambhala to be mobilized like this." Aranea muttered as she sipped the last of her brother's liquor.

"You know my opinion on it all." Spite replied as he leaned into his seat. "All this? For two false gods?"

"You would rather fight a shadow war, wouldn't you?"

"You wouldn't want to fight a war with absolute control?" Spite raised an eyebrow. "You would risk everything to appease that bandit?"

"Addy, why are you so worried?" Aranea asked.

Spite snorted. "You know I don't trust Nemesis- or the spawn of the Fell Star for that matter. Why should we put our faith in a failed bandit?"

"Don't you find a delicious irony in forcing Seiros into slaughtering her kin?"

"No, I don't." Spite replied, pausing for a minute before he looked at his sister. "I would rather be done with this war."

"When did you become a pacifist?" Aranea chuckled.

"Pacifism is only useful for subverting our enemies." Spite snapped. "It is a suicidal policy."

"You seem displeased, Lord Periander," Thales said. "And yet you do not make it openly known."

"Is there any point in opposing the will of the Agastya?" Spite asked in turn.

"Humour me then," Thales said as he sat at the table. "How is it that you would fight this war?"

Spite said nothing as he leaned into his seat.

"That was not a request." Thales continued, his voice low.

"I would use the concentrated arcane to level Garreg Mach." Spite replied. "Throw the fledgling empire into chaos as their people scramble to prepare for winter."

"We will destroy Garreg Mach." Thales replied. "Does that not please you?"

"No." Spite replied. "Nemesis does not share our goals. He cannot be trusted."

"And why is it that you believe that?" Thales asked.

"Because he does not have the blood of Agartha flowing through his veins." Spite turned his gaze to the newly arrived Myson. "Nor does he feel the humiliation inflicted upon us during the long war."

"And do you know why it is that I have called him up?" Thales asked, his tone even as he turned his gaze to Spite.

"I do not." Spite admitted after a moment of silence.

"Because you are incorrect." Thales said. "Nemesis will share our goals."

Spite said nothing.

"Deep within the notes of our common… predecessor," Thales continued, his voice slow, as if he savoured every word. "I found a particular ritual I remember from my youth."

"Are we interrupting?"

Spite turned his gaze to Chilon and Mortis at the doorway, the former dragging the disheveled form of Patricia von Hregsvelg into the room.

"Lord Chilon, Lady Bias," Thales greeted, his tone flat. "Please, take a seat."

"Better for us to stand." Chilon said. "The chairs are difficult to replace."

"Very well then." Thales turned back to Spite. "Now, do you know of the ritual I speak of?"

Spite frowned. "The resurrection ritual?"

Thales smiled, his pale lips devoid of warmth. "No."

Spite closed his eyes. "The chaining."

"You are correct." Thales smiled. "His first great work, which saw him become Agastya."

"And you intend to use this on Seiros." Spite finished.

"No." Thales said, a malicious light in his eye. "The daughter of the Fell Star will be chained, but not only her."

Spite closed his eyes. "You intend to chain Nemesis to an Agarthan. To bind his will to Agartha."

"You catch on quickly." Thales said. "Does that sate your doubts?"

Spite nodded before he glanced around the room. "Are there any other questions?"

Chilon cleared his throat from the doorway. "Our legions are ready to move. We wait on your command."

"Very good." Thales said. "Come, masters of Shambhala, for your Agastya calls you to war."

The three seated mages rose from their seats as Chilon and Mortis filed out of the room, the latter exchanging a glance with Spite as she stepped into the hallway.

"We will talk later." Aranea whispered to her brother as she stepped from the conference room.

"So we will," Spite muttered as he shut the door behind them, the boom echoing against the hallway as he followed the rest of the Septet.

* * *

Chapter 37 complete. Yay. Read, Review, yada yada.

**AN:** Some updates to the story also published this week.(New, updated summary, a few spelling mistakes in previous chapters).

Next chapter: Vae Victus, End.

Spite- The conjuring.

Byleth- Red skies.

Edelgard- Unbowed.

Claude- Heartseeker.

Linhardt- One day of peace.


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38: Vae Victus, End.

* * *

"An odd choice for your battalion, Lady Bias." Thales said as he looked down the squadron marching through the dimly-lit halls of Zaharas. "May I ask why you diverged from more… traditional practices?"

"As I understand it, we are currently short on sorcerers." Mortis explained as she turned her gaze away from Thales, unable to bear the full brunt of his gaze. "I believe that they should be held in a more defensive role, guarding Lord Periander as he conducts more important acts of business."

Thales nodded as he turned to Narik. "Tell me, Underlord Narik, were you expecting this, shall we say, duty?"

"No, Agastya," Narik replied, his voice cold and without emotion. "I did not expect this duty, but I will serve Shambhala in whatever way the Septet sees fit."

"Lady Bias, I will commend you for choosing your battalion wisely, for I will expect you to serve as an advance force once we arrive in Fhirdiad." Thales said. "Have you worked with Underlord Narik's unit before?"

"I have not," Mortis replied, her gaze focused on the shadowy road ahead, unwilling to meet the eyes of either Thales or Narik. "But I believe Underlord Narik's forces to be excellent in their service."

Thales chuckled. "We shall see. But do expect to be moved on a… different path should the need arise."

Mortis nodded as she slipped a glance at the stony visage of Narik.

"Agastya, our forward scouts have reported… something." Chilon muttered as he shoved past two lesser sorcerers. "It appears that there's a large gathering of the fallen before us."

"Most intriguing," Thales said, nodding to Spite as he gestured to Mortis. "All members of the Septet, follow me. The rest of you, stand in formation."

* * *

"Hey Chatterbox?"

"Is something wrong?" Byleth asked as he squinted at the river below him.

"There's the boat there." Hapi replied, pointing to a spot below them. "Looks like the one we're supposed to be looking for."

"Can we land?" Byleth asked as he squinted down.

"Sure," Hapi said. "Just I'm not sure we want to."

Byleth raised an eyebrow as an arrow whizzed by the pegasus.

"See?" Hapi asked as she skirted away from the boat. "I'm not landing."

Byleth grimaced as he glanced down at the boat, his eyes darting to a forest on the distant shore.

"Hapi," Byleth managed as the pegasus dove low, narrowly missing an arrow in the process. "Can we land in the forest?"

"We'd need a clearing." Hapi replied, her tone ever bored. "Still, better than becoming target practice for our own soldiers."

Byleth nodded as Hapi swung hard away from the ship, her knuckles turning a shade paler as she clung to the reins.

"Hey Chatterbox," Hapi managed. "This might get a bit bumpy."

Byleth grunted his acknowledgment as the pegasus gained speed, darting in a wild pattern as they closed with the shore.

"Chatterbox!" Hapi yelled as the pegasus bucked. "Hold on!"

Byleth gritted his teeth as he tightened his arms around Hapi, his eyes still blinded by the falling sun around him.

But even that wasn't enough when the pegasus bucked once more.

And Byleth felt himself falling.

* * *

"Hey," the voice hissed as Claude snapped back into focus.

"What's going on?" Claude asked.

"They collected some poisonous berries," Douglas whispered back, amusement evident in his voice. "Looks like they're trying to make some form of soup out of it."

"Soup?" Claude muttered, confused.

"One of the idiots sat on a pouch of the stuff," Douglas whispered, though Claude could tell the former bandit was doing his best to not laugh. "They're sucking on the juices now."

"Is it fatal?" Claude asked.

"Given a week, yes," Douglas was no longer at risk of laughing. "But for the short term, they're going to be very sick. It's not going to be a pretty scene."

"You think we can grab them?" Claude asked.

Douglas said nothing, but nodded as he pulled out a dagger. "Give it time."

* * *

Byleth winced as he climbed to his feet, the world around him turning in circles as he stumbled, almost falling again in the process.

"Chatterbox," a distant, strained voice growled. "We're surrounded."

Byleth grimaced as he glanced around him, a dozen soldiers, mostly armed with spears, surrounded them. "Hapi, are you alright?"

"Fine," Hapi replied, a vicious axe in her hands. "I got out of it better than you did."

"Make way! Make way!" a voice shouted from beyond the circle of soldiers. "What in the world is going on?"

Byleth grimaced as he drew his sword, the sight of the infamous blade causing a murmur in the crowd around him.

"What in the hell is- Consort Byleth?" the other, more distant voice spluttered.

"That's me," Byleth muttered as he raised a hand in greeting at the shaky, fuzzy figure.

"Lower your weapons you imbeciles!" the voice barked. "That's the royal consort!"

Byleth grimaced as a nagging pain rose in his head, vaguely feeling a knee give out.

"Chatterbox!" Hapi gasped.

"Get him help!" the more distant voice shouted, followed with a cry of pain from a third voice.

Byleth groaned as he clutched at his head, his vision shaky before strong, slender hands caught him. But even before he could look up, his vision slipped into darkness.

* * *

"Vito," Spite greeted the lead phantom, the undead sorcerer bowing his head in recognition to the members of the Septet before him. "I see that the days have not been kind to you."

Vito bowed his head. "My Agastya, my great lords, I regret to inform you of our failure in battle."

"It will be avenged, have no doubt." Thales replied. "Myson, Chilon, inform the soldiers that we will set up camp here."

The hesitant phantom flickered as he glanced around the room. "My lords, what is it that you intend to do?"

"You'll see when the time comes," Spite replied as he glanced at the main convoy behind him shudder to a halt, the lines of marching men dissolving into their own cliques as the orders from Thales took effect.

"Chilon, oversee the camp." Thales ordered. "The rest of you, follow me."

"Where are we going?" a lesser sorcerer asked, the man's uniform identifying him as a member of Myson's battalion.

"The ritual we are conducting may be dangerous." Spite explained to the man. "We'll conduct it safely out of sight of the main group."

The lesser sorcerer glanced behind him. "Will it be dangerous?"

Spite chuckled. "No, but we will expect you men to watch over the ritual. You will codify this ritual for the generations to come."

"Bias, come with me, I want you to assist with the unloading of the crystal." Aranea called as she wagged a finger at Mortis.

"Should I follow?"

Spite glanced up at Narik, his hands clasped behind his back as he watched his charge step away from the command group.

"No," Spite replied. "Bias will not need you at this time."

Narik shrugged as he turned to his battalion, his gaze snapping a pair of soldiers back to attention before he turned back to Spite.

"Will we be needed?"

"No," Spite replied. "But only Bias herself has the authority to dismiss you."

A groan rose from the warband standing next to Narik, the men and women complaining despite the presence of two senior officers right next to them.

"I will… drop a few hints when the time is right," Spite sighed as Narik turned back on his squadron. "Do… keep your men in line until then."

* * *

"Lady Edelgard, there's movement up ahead." Hubert whispered as he rushed past the main group. "What are your orders?"

"Movement?" Edelgard whispered back, her eyes darting to Aymr.

"Infantry units," Hubert explained. "Marching north."

"In the same direction the professor went." Edelgard muttered.

"Edelgard?"Ingrid sounded worried. "What do we do?"

Edelgard closed her eyes for a moment as she looked into the campfire they had set up, her eyes boring into the flames as competing plans duelled in her head.

"Ignatz, how well do you know Daphnel territory?" Edelgard asked after a moment of silence. "In particular, main roads and ports."

"There's a small port to the north," Ignatz admitted. "Daphnel territory doesn't get much trade, so the roads are rather poorly maintained."

Edelgard nodded as she turned and observed the ranks of the Black Eagle Strike Force, her mind mentally eliminating names as she settled on the faces of her former classmates.

"Ignatz, Yuri, Petra, come with me." Edelgard ordered. "It will be best to advance quickly, off the beaten path. If possible, I would like the element of surprise if we need to engage in battle."

"And what about the rest of us?" Ingrid asked, her face worried.

Edelgard grimaced. "We don't have a clear idea of just how many troops are within this region. We cannot risk bringing along a large party-"

"Lady Edelgard-" Hubert interjected.

"Hubert!" Edelgard snapped, rising to her feet as she grabbed Aymr. "You will watch over this camp in my stead."

"I simply cannot!" Hubert shot back. "I live to serve you-"

"And my will is clear." Edelgard cut in. "You will see to the protection of this camp until we've made contact with friendly forces in the area."

"What if you get hurt?"Hubert pleaded with Edelgard.

Edelgard gritted her teeth as she turned her back to Hubert. "I gave you an order. You will follow it to the letter."

Hubert gritted his teeth. "I… understand, Lady Edelgard."

Edelgard let out a slow hiss as she gestured for Ignatz to lead the way, across the bridge.

* * *

Claude winced as the third man staggered to the river, his hands on his stomach as he heaved into the water.

Douglas brought a single finger to his lips as he shifted forward,his eyes on the only man who had the good fortune of avoiding the poisoned meal, the only soldier to remain upright, even as his peers whimpered on the ground.

"Boss-" one of the men on the ground groaned. "Help me- please!"

Claude glanced at Douglas as he raised his bow, ready to put the poisoned man down.

Douglas shook his head violently, his own bow lowered as he inched back from the tree line.

"Bastard poisoned his own people." Douglas whispered as he scooted next to Claude. "I see poisons left and right."

"Why would he do that?" Claude whispered.

Douglas shook his head before he glanced back at the scene, watching one man seize up and fall silent before turning back to Claude. "Might be trying to evade detection."

Claude grimaced as he tightened his grip on his bow. "Then let's-"

"No." Douglas hissed. "We wait. If we can understand how he managed to slip past so many imperial forces, we'll all be better for it."

Claude clenched his teeth as he watched the only unafflicted man rise from his post at the far edge of the camp, a dagger in hand.

"What is-" Claude whispered as the man slowed and knelt over the unmoving man, his lips moving silently as he plunged the dagger into the dead man's chest.

"He's going to kill every last one of them." Douglas observed, an arm holding Claude back from charging into the fray. "There's nothing we can do. The mission comes first."

Claude clenched his teeth as he relented, sliding back into the shadow of the trees as the dagger in the man's hand fell into another still body.

* * *

"Are we ready for the ritual to commence?" Thales turned to the assembled legion behind him.

A moment of silence followed as the lesser sorcerers at the edges of the room shifted, their eyes darting from the ranking members of the Septet to the lone Titanus unit present, standing vigil over the units of magi.

"Are there any objections?" Thales called. "This will be your last chance to step away."

A murmur rose up from the assembled battalions as Mortis exchanged a glance with Narik.

"Very well then," Thales raised a slender horn, his eyes examining the unholy relic before he brought it to his lips.

Mortis felt a slight shiver running down her spine as the horn sounded, the haunting note echoing against the dimly lit room.

For a second more, the call echoed against the walls of Zaharas, beckoning the dead forward.

And they rushed to the source of the call, whispering in gargled, inhuman tongues, both common and Agarthan alike, as they rushed through the haunted halls.

"Periander!" Thales bellowed over the din. "Now!"

Spite grimaced as two orbs of magic slipped from his fingers, tearing through the screaming throng of the undead.

A distant shriek echoed as a heavy, erratic beat pounded against the walls of the chamber, the screams of the phantom legion rising to a fever pitch as the lesser Agarthans fled the room.

Or rather, tried to, for the tunnels that led out of the room were sealed, the transparent barriers each a tapestry of death and horror as Agarthan phantoms pounded grey, lifeless hands against the arcane wards.

"Enough!" Thales shouted, his voice booming as the room fell into an unholy silence, and all eyes, both living and dead, turned to the sorcerer. "Scions of Agartha! You are here to serve!"

For a moment, the air remained silent except for terrified gasps.

"Lord Periander," Thales ordered. "Commence with the bloodletting."

Mortis exchanged a glance with Aranea as Spite removed a dark stone from his robes.

"Is that-" Mortis started, falling silent as Aranea raised a slender finger.

"Bias," Myson started as he stepped next to her. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing," Bias replied.

"Is this your first time witnessing this ritual?" Myson continued, as if Mortis hadn't spoken.

Mortis paused for a moment before she nodded.

"Watch closely then," Myson said. "One day, you may be conducting this ritual yourself."

Mortis nodded as Spite raised his arms high, pausing for a moment before smashing something into the black stone.

* * *

"Edelgard, we've found the shipyard ahead." Yuri muttered.

Edelgard flinched as her eyes darted to the lilac-haired man, a look of surprise on his face.

"What guards are there?" Edelgard asked as she fully turned to Yuri.

"Six no weapons, two spear, four archers."

"Petra, is that all?" Edelgard asked. "What about the main roads?"

"I checked that," Yuri said. "A few archers, but not too many guards."

"Any sign of the Professor or Hapi?" Ignatz asked.

Yuri grimaced as he shook his head.

"No Professor." Petra confirmed, a frown on her face.

Edelgard clenched her teeth as she grabbed Aymr. "Then we go in."

"Quietly?" Yuri asked. "The path we took to the shipyards is rather dangerous."

Edelgard slammed Aymr into a rock in response, the dragon bone burying deep into the stone as she glared at Yuri.

"Alright alright." Yuri muttered, his hands raised in surrender. "We'll go by the main road."

"Edelgard?" Ignatz asked, backing away from the stone as he raised his hands. "Could we- could we call the others over?"

Edelgard paused before she tore Aymr from the rock. "Fine. Head back with Yuri."

"You sure?" Yuri asked. "I don't want for you to go in alone."

Edelgard clenched her teeth as a slow breath slipped from her gritted teeth. "And what if Byleth is hurt?"

"We'll need a healer then," Yuri argued. "Or at least the supplies we have in the convoy."

Edelgard grimaced as a breeze rustled the bushes around them, her eyes closing for a second before Aymr clattered to the ground. "Get the others."

"Righto-" Yuri said as he darted into the bush, eager to be away before Edelgard changed her mind again.

"Edelgard?" Ignatz asked as the pale haired woman turned to look at him.

"What is it now?" Edelgard asked, her tone flat as she ran a hand through her hair.

"I'm sorry that things had to come to this." Ignatz admitted as Edelgard pressed herself against a tree, sinking to the ground as Ignatz trailed off.

"It's not your fault." Edelgard said as she rested her arms on her knees. "Perhaps- perhaps we could have resolved all of this differently."

Ignatz took a deep breath. "Could I ask you something?"

Edelgard turned to Ignatz and raised an eyebrow. "You have my attention."

"Do you think we would ever run into… them again?"

"Mortis and Yurius," Edelgard narrowed her eyes. "Or… Adrasteia?"

"Well, both of them," Ignatz admitted.

"Thales is positioning his forces for war." Edelgard reasoned. "Almost certainly Adrasteia will be amongst his officers. Do you fear the day you will fight them?"

Ignatz shook his head. "I… I've known for years that Count Gloucester had killed Raphael's parents in the monster attack."

"And Adrasteia denied him the chance to seek revenge." Edelgard guessed.

Ignatz shook his head furiously. "No, it's not that. I…We've made our peace with Lorenz. I just wish that his father could give Raphael some kind of closure."

"I see," Edelgard said, her eyes closing for a second. "I'm sorry that you couldn't get that."

A yelp caused Edelgard to scramble to her feet, Aymr pointed at the thrashing form of… Hapi?

"Hapi! Hapi!" Petra cried from somewhere under the red-haired girl. "Get away!"

"Hapi?" Edelgard spluttered.

* * *

"What is that?" Mortis growled as she took a step back.

"A sample of pure Agarthan blood, fuelled by arcane might." Myson explained. "Look upon it. Is it not a beautiful sight?"

Mortis turned to the small lump on the ground and the pool of dark liquid expanding from the stone. "How much longer is that going to spread?"

"Quite a bit," Aranea replied, her skirts hiked up and her shoes in one hand. "Wish you bastards told me ahead of time just how much blood you intended to make."

Myson chuckled. "Always complaining about the small things, Pittacus?"

Aranea shook her head in disgust as she stepped behind Mortis, pulling the younger woman away from . "Leave Periander to his work, we won't be needed."

"Is that why you're dragging me off?" Mortis muttered as she reached a safe distance away from Myson.

"My brother has insisted that you stand away from him while this ritual is conducted." Aranea scoffed.

"Why?" Mortis asked.

"You'll see."

* * *

Linhardt blinked as he sat up, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark, spacious room he was in.

"So you're awake now," the voice of Count Hevring murmured to his left.

Linhardt blinked as he turned to the tired face of his father.

"Hey… dad."

"Linhardt," Count Hevring had a neutral look on his face. "I see that you've had some strange sleeping habits."

"Sorry," Linhardt muttered, unwilling to meet his father's eyes. "It's been a long week."

"But for once, I understand why," Count Hevring's voice held something Linhardt hadn't heard in a lifetime. Pride?

"Tell me," Count Hevring continued. "What is Lysithea to you?"

Linhardt flinched at the mention of the tiny girl, his eyes darting to his father. "You know?"

"I've known for many, many years." Count Hevring replied. "He… he had mentioned that, before Lady Edelgard, he had succeeded once before, but at the cost of many lives."

"Adrasteia," Linhardt whispered.

"I've spoken to some of the guards here, the cooks, the maids. She cares for you, more than any simple friend."

Linhardt closed his eyes for a moment before he confessed. "I- I love her."

"Then I expect you to show her that love, not just today, but for the rest of your lives." Count Hevring continued, his voice firm. "Do that, and you will have my blessing."

Linhardt turned to his father in shock. "You approve?"

"She has seen all your imperfections and flaws," Count Hevring explained. "And yet she still wants to be with you, now and forever."

"What about the land?" Linhardt gasped. "For so long you've wanted me to take over."

"I have heard rumblings of what the emperor wishes to do with our territories." Count Hevring explained. "In a few years, there very well may not be any land to speak of. And even if there was still land, I believe that you will do greater things with her rather than with a territory you have never cared for."

Linhardt felt a tear slip down his face as Count Hevring rose to his feet.

"Take tomorrow off," Count Hevring said as he wiped away the single tear. "Show her, and me, what sort of life you intend to lead, and what light you will bring to her life."

* * *

"Hey Ferdie?"

Ferdinand glanced up at the mention of his name.

"I think Seteth is trying to tell us something."

Ferdinand blinked as he looked up, his eyes straining to find Seteth against the night sky.

"What do you think he's saying?" Dorothea asked.

"I don't know." Ferdinand muttered as the distant form of Seteth disappeared below the tree line.

"Is he alright?" Dorothea whispered as she watched the green-haired Nabatean disappear.

"Hold on," Ferdinand replied. "We're going after him."

"Right," Dorothea managed as Ferdinand gripped the reins, willing the horse to charge forward, past the bend. Right into Ashe.

"Ahh!" Ashe cried as he dove out of the way, narrowly avoiding being trampled as Ferdinand forced his horse to a halt.

"Ashe!" Dorothea cried as she climbed off the horse, her legs sore. "You alright?"

"Ah, Dorothea, Ferdinand," Ashe started, wiping away a lock of hair from his head. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you."

"We didn't hurt you or anything right?"

"No, no," Ashe replied. "I'm quite alright. Still, I'm quite surprised you're here. It's rather far from Myrddin. Did you ride all the way here?"

"We did," Ferdinand confirmed. "Has the ship set sail?"

Ashe shook his head as he turned to the distance. "The Professor tried to make contact with our people here, but we haven't heard anything from him for some time."

"He's alright… right?" Ferdinand cut in.

Ashe shook his head. "Edelgard went to look for him, but she hasn't returned either. Hubert's growing restless."

"I can see why," Ferdinand muttered. "Are you looking to leave soon?

"You'll have to ask Hubert that," Ashe said, hurrying along the road. "Did you two come alone?"

"We came with Seteth," Dorothea replied. "That's not an issue, is it?"

"I am aware of that," Hubert muttered as he stepped forward, greeting Dorothea and Ferdinand with a nod. "We'll be leaving in a few minutes if Lady Edelgard has yet to return."

"Hubert," Seteth muttered as he landed next to Hubert. "There are Imperial soldiers coming this way. I presume they are not under your command?"

"Imperials?" Ferdinand asked.

"Daphnel territory has a significant garrison," Hubert explained. "A force, that, for all intents and purposes, was not informed of our presence."

"And they're coming across the bridge." Felix growled, his sword drawn. "What do we do?"

Hubert growled as he turned on his heel. "I will… negotiate with them."

Felix grimaced as he sheathed his sword, taking a step back as two figures inched across the bridge, long shields held in a defensive posture.

"Hold it!" a voice shouted from behind the two advancing figures. "Stand down!"

Hubert exchanged a glance with Felix as a third man stepped past the two nervous infantrymen.

"Minister," the soldier greeted.

"Colonel Rav," Hubert greeted. "Why is it that you are here?"

The tall, pale soldier waved his men down before he spoke. "We received reports that there was a breach in security at the port. Considering how valuable this transport is, we could not risk it harm."

"Who is it that leads the Almyran fleet?" Hubert asked, his eyes dark. "Why is it that they deserve such… preferential treatment?"

"The previous leader of the Leicester Alliance was amongst the captives." Rav explained. "Despite his so called oath to stay away from Fodlan."

"So Claude has returned." Yuri muttered as he stepped past the two guards, one jumping as the lilac haired lord slipped past him. "Hubert, Edelgard wants you to move to her position."

Hubert nodded as he turned to the colonel. "Our professor attempted to make contact with your forces, but we have not seen him for some time. Could he be your security breach?"

Rav clenched his teeth before he nodded. "The men around the ships are on high alert, and they're rather tired."

"I did not ask for excuses." Hubert reminded the officer before him. "Now, lead us to the port."

"As you wish," Rav muttered as he gestured for his two guards to move.

* * *

"Where is Byleth?" Edelgard growled at the sheepish looking soldier before her.

"Chatterbox is on the ship," Hapi offered. "Eddy, are you alright?"

Edelgard gave Hapi a glare before she stormed up the plank leading to the ship, her cloak billowing behind her as Hapi and Ignatz shared a shrug.

"What happened to the Professor anyways?" Ignatz asked the man.

"They shot down Mr. Klow," Hapi replied, a pout on her lips.

"Mr. Klow?" Ignatz stammered.

"We fired on their mount as they tried to land." the sheepish officer explained. "The mount isn't in flying shape, but it should survive."

"But you still hurt Mr. Klow."

"And we're sorry for it." the sheepish officer sighed. "Just… please, forgive us."

"Is the Professor going to be alright?" Ignatz asked.

The man glanced up at the huddled form of Edelgard, on the distant ship. "I can't say for sure. Our medics have been working around the clock, but I'm not sure when he'll wake."

"Is Claude behind oranges?" Petra asked.

The man blinked. "Claude?"

"Was Claudester the one behind the oranges?" Hapi translated for Petra.

The man blinked again, turning to Ignatz. "I'm sorry?"

"We were told that a band of Almyran pirates led by a Khalid wanted the oranges." Ignatz explained. "Is that true?"

"The group wasn't led by this Khalid character, but yes." the man said. "The leader of the group is a former Alliance noblewoman-"

"Lady Tiana von Riegan?" Ignatz asked.

The man looked at Ignatz for a moment. "Are you-"

"Ah, sorry," Ignatz exclaimed, bowing to the man. "My name is Ignatz Victor."

"The Victor Trading Company?"

Ignatz nodded. "We did a great amount of business with House Riegan."

"Ignatz?" Petra asked. "Is Tiana Claude's mother?"

"She is," Ignatz said. "My father did a considerable amount of business with her back in the day."

"And we will do more business with her in the coming weeks." Hubert cut in as he marched up to the unfortunate officer. "After all, we'll be meeting her face to face."

* * *

"Poor bastards." Claude muttered as he stepped over the corpse of the last dead man, taking a knee to close the sightless eyes of the poison victim.

"Just one left." Douglas shook his head. "Just one left."

"I suppose we'll find out what his plan after all this time was," Claude said as he stretched his arms. "And we'll put an end to it."

"Remember, we'll need to take him alive." Douglas reminded the younger man. "Though taking a suicidal man alive is easier said than done."

"What makes you say that?" Claude asked.

"He didn't take even the edible berries his men gathered," Douglas replied, pointing to a large, filled sack. "That could have lasted him for at least another day."

"What the hell was he thinking?" Claude muttered as he picked up a berry from the sack.

"You can't reason with a madman," Douglas scoffed. "Now, come on, let's not lose his trail."

* * *

"My Agastya," Spite murmured as he stepped back, sloshing through the several inches of foul blood as he turned to Thales. "My role here is complete."

"As it should be," Thales said, his eyes on the faceless legion around him. "Sons of Agartha, I call upon you to serve, to avenge our forefathers, and to give light to those of us who follow!"

For a moment the ghostly forms of the undead flickered as Thales stood, orbs of power growing in his hands as he turned to the towering Titanus unit.

"_For Agartha!_" Thales roared.

"_For Agartha!_" The crowd roared back.

Mortis grimaced as Spite sloshed through the lake of blood, his face emotionless as the lesser magi and undead spirits began to chant.

"_For Agartha!_" the voices chanted, echoing and disjointed.

When Spite finally stood next to Mortis, the chant had become synchronized, a hundred deafening voices chanting as one, the droning chant unmistakable as the orbs of power channelled by Thales grew in size and power.

And then the room was drowned in a blinding white.

* * *

"Lady Edelgard," Hubert whispered as he placed his cloak over Edelgard's shoulders, moving softly to not wake her.

"She's sleeping," Yuri observed from behind Hubert.

Hubert clenched his teeth as he glared at Yuri. "Don't be so loud."

"Could I take you aside before we meet Claude?" Yuri asked. "You know, since we'll be seeing him for the first time since Derdriu."

Hubert grimaced as he rose to his feet. "Tell me what you are planning then."

* * *

Byleth blinked as the world around him became clear again.

Somewhere, far to the distance, a bird called as the sky above was a kaleidoscope of bright pinks and oranges.

And yet even the sky paled when he found Edelgard hovering over him, her features claimed by a deep, peaceful sleep.

He lay on the ship for a while, his head nestled between Edelgard's legs and stomach, the world around him charmed by distant waves and Edelgard's own gentle breaths.

Byleth paused as he shifted his free arm, shielded from the elements by Edelgard's cape, feeling a slight smile come over his features as he leaned into Edelgard, watching her sleeping face as he rested.

He wasn't sure how long it took before Edelgard began to shift. A minute? An hour?

It didn't matter, for Edelgard's eyelids cracked open, the violet orbs hiding within revealing a moment of surprise before turning into a bright, unhidden joy.

"Good morning," Byleth whispered.

"Good morning," Edelgard whispered back as she shifted on the ship they were on. "Did you sleep well?"

Byleth smiled. "I did, all thanks to you."

A slight sigh of relief escaped Edelgard as she shook her head. "That's the last time I'm letting you fly alone."

"You know, if we master flying, we could get some… alone time," Byleth suggested, lightening the mood. "You know, away from Hubert."

Edelgard giggled at the suggestion. "I like that idea. Just a free afternoon-"

"Or an early morning," Byleth whispered. "Like today."

Edelgard blinked as she glanced up, falling silent as they explored the brightening sky.

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Edelgard whispered at last, her eyes falling back to Byleth.

"Am I getting anything for it?" Byleth teased.

Pink tinted Edelgard's cheeks as she leaned down, sharing a kiss in the early morning light.

"Are we moving?" Byleth asked as Edelgard retreated, her face turning into a painful wince as she shifted below him.

"Professor?" Edelgard's voice was strained when Byleth looked up at her, noting how her face had flushed even darker.

"El?" Byleth whispered as he brought his face close to hers, his tongue poking out to explore the sensitive spots of her neck. "Are you alright?"

Edelgard let out a loose, awkward laugh as she averted her eyes. "I- I can't feel my legs."

"Is it because of… me?" Byleth asked as he inched higher, past Edelgard's chin.

"No!" Edelgard protested. "Please, don't blame yourself. Maybe I should have-"

Byleth pressed his lips against Edelgard as a squeak escaped her, her train of thought derailed by blissful joy as she leaned against the bulwark behind her, content to enjoy the moment.

"Are you going to be able to walk?" Byleth asked as he slowly climbed up, a smile on his face as he met Edelgard, eye to eye.

"I can try," Edelgard whispered as she raised a hand, her legs shaky as Byleth pulled her to her feet, only for her legs to give out a moment later.

Byleth was quick as Edelgard fell, his spare arm brought against Edelgard's waist as he gave her a look of disapproval. "Clearly you can't walk on your own for now."

"Sorry," Edelgard managed as she shifted her gaze to the deck below them.

It was a mistake, as she missed the gleam in Byleth's eyes, the only warning she had before Byleth caught her, sweeping her off her feet as he raised an arm to better hold on to Edelgard's back.

"Professor!" Edelgard yelped, her face as red as her cloak as she tried to squirm out of Byleth's arms. "I'm fine now!"

"Are you really?" Byleth whispered as he turned to a set of stairs leading to the belly of the ship. "Are you able to walk on your own now?"

"Yes!" Edelgard yelped, her legs kicking uselessly as Byleth moved to the first stair. "I can walk!"

"But do you want to?" Byleth whispered, a victorious smile on his lips as Edelgard hesitated.

Edelgard sighed as she resigned herself to defeat, inching back into Byleth even as a smile lit up her features. "You know the answer to that."

* * *

"Narik," Spite murmured as he stepped behind the bald man. "I have some words with you."

"Figured as much," Narik replied. "Which one of the two are you asking me to watch out for?"

Spite clenched his teeth, his eyes moving to watch the sleeping soldiers of Narik's battalion. "Mortis is capable of handing herself, but I still want you to… advise her when it comes to the political side of things."

"Is she not your protege?" Narik asked, his arms crossed. "Was it not your role to teach her those things?"

"I intended for her to take my role upon my death, many decades _after_ this mess had been sorted." Spite replied. "But as you know, even the best laid plans can be foiled."

"So it is," Narik replied. "But what of your sister? Your flesh and blood?"

"It was not my intention to bring her back again," Spite shot back. "You know this."

"Why not?" Narik asked. "And do not lie to me about you not caring for her."

"Because she is no longer my sister," Spite replied. "I encountered her in the tunnels twice before. She could no longer recognize me. Nor Aranea, nor Mortis."

Narik glanced around the room. "And what is it that you intend for me to do?"

"Dump her in a covenant somewhere." Spite said. "I don't want her fighting this war, not after what happened with Solon last time."

"And what do I get out of this?" Narik asked, his tone neutral as Spite raised an irritated eyebrow. "You ask for much."

"Name your price." Spite replied.

"The location of the vaults. All twelve of them." Narik narrowed his eyes as he paused. "Good morning, Lady Bias."

"Spite?" Mortis asked as the older man turned around.

"Good morning to you," Spite replied, his eyes shifting as he turned back to Narik. "Fair enough. Come speak to me after."

"What are you going on about?" Mortis muttered as she narrowed her eyes at Narik. "What's going on?"

Narik frowned as he looked at the woman next to Mortis. "He's worried for his sister."

Mortis turned to look upon the unmoving form of Kronya as Spite marched away, pain flashing across her face as she sighed. "Let's get this over with then."

* * *

**AN:** Sorry for the late chapter. Lost motivation to write for a bit. Back now. Another factor to the slow chapter was that I changed the Edeleth scene after finishing it initially.(Because Edelgard's birthday was 2 days ago).

Read, Review, Follow, etc.

Next arc: Carpe Noctem.

Next chapter:

Black Winds, Red Blood- Mortis.

Arrivals- Linhardt.

Departures- Claude.

A Stench in the Wind- Seteth.

The Veil Falters- ?

Next Tuesday: Seven Years chapter 3.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39: Carpe Noctum, Part 1.

* * *

"Vito, Shambhala summons you."

The ranks of the Septet shifted as the lesser sorcerer stood, his body paralyzed as he stiffly marched to the Agastya, his eyes darting around the room, yet unable to meet the averted gazes of the rest of the Septet.

"Vito of Shambhala," Thales continued. "Your men have spoken highly of you. To stand and fight in the face of death. You deserve a reward."

Vito shifted as he knelt. "I- I am honoured."

"From today forth, you will be known as Solon of the Septet." Thales continued. "Ensure the trust placed with you is put to good use."

Vito shifted before he rose, backing two steps away from Thales.

"Now," Thales continued. "The next phase of our operations will continue."

The room fell silent as Vito inched back, pausing next to Spite as he turned his gaze back to Thales.

"We will require an investigation into the massacre at Conand Tower," Thales said. "We expect a warband of Almyran pirates and potentially one of the four Saints of old. Our defenses must deal with the former quickly if we are to strike at the latter."

"What if the two groups are working together?" Myson asked from the side.

"Unlikely, but a danger nonetheless." Thales replied. "A vanguard of our personal units will move out to investigate the fortress. When that is secured, we will conduct our investigation."

"What of our flanks?" Spite spoke up. "Conand Tower borders several noble houses."

"Their forces will have been depleted by the war, they will be of no threat to us." Thales replied.

The room fell silent for a moment as Mortis exchanged a mutual glance with Aranea.

"Bias, Chilon, you will take control of our southern flank." Thales barked. "Solon, avenge your previous failure and bring us victory against the Almyran fleet."

"Myson, you will guard our northern flank." Thale continued after a pause. "Pittacus and Periander, you will be with me."

"What of our… regular regiments?" Spite asked. "Discipline cannot be held forever, especially not within the haunted halls of Zaharas."

"They will hold." Thales replied as he gestured to Myson. "We will not be long before we march upon Fhirdiad."

* * *

"Are we close to landing?" Seteth asked the soldier at the helm of the ship, his eyes darting to the distant coastline.

"I'm afraid there's perhaps another hour before we can make landfall," the soldier replied. "There's only a single port where we can unload our cargo without damage to the ship."

Seteth nodded as he turned back to the ship, nodding as he met the gaze of Byleth.

"Good morning Seteth," Byleth said. "I'm surprised that you came this far, especially without Flayn."

"We are going to war against the enemy who murdered Seiros," Seteth replied. "I could not bear the thought of losing Flayn in battle."

Byleth nodded as he turned around, watching the steps leading to the belly of the ship.

"I apologize if I'm intruding, but you are… with Edelgard, yes?" Seteth asked after a minute.

Byleth nodded as the soldier next to him shifted away, his face a bright blush as he left the two men to their private conversation.

A slight smile rose to Seteth's lips. "I remember how I would spend every moment thinking about Janet. I suppose that is love."

Byleth paused as he stared over the horizon. "Have you found anyone else over the years?"

Seteth shook his head. "For so long, I lived alone, watching over Flayn. It was enough for me to know that my last link to Janet was safe."

Byleth nodded as he watched the water below. "Do you believe that Rhea-"

"I do," Seteth sighed. "She took mother's loss the hardest out of all of us, but I never believed she would go as far as she did, and for that, I'm sorry."

"Seteth," Hubert murmured from behind. "Your counsel would be appreciated."

"What is it?" Seteth asked, his tone guarded as he turned around.

"You've had interactions with Agarthans in the past few years," Hubert said. "And yet you did not put the pieces together, why was that?"

Seteth narrowed his eyes. "I do not know what you are saying, Hubert."

"Very well then, Seteth," Hubert continued. "Let me give you an example."

"Mortis," Byleth guessed.

"Both Mortis and her master, Cornelia Armin." Hubert corrected Byleth. "One, a ghost, with no records to speak of, the other having been accused of horrific crimes. And yet they both served along with your forces, walked amongst your inner circles. How do you answer that?"

Seteth said nothing.

"Shall I continue?" Hubert asked, his tone cold. "Cornelia also had a… personality change, from what I have been told. With the fact that Tomas and Monica von Ochs having been replaced, did it ever cross your mind that she might have not been who she claimed to be?"

Seteth clenched his teeth. "We were short on manpower, no thanks to your own forces skirmishing along the road to Arianrhod."

"And speaking of Arianrhod," Hubert continued, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. "How did you miss the Titanus contingent, used only by your sworn enemies in ages past, amongst the defenders? Did Rodrigue not inform you of their presence? Did you not witness them travel through your territory over the war?"

Seteth turned back to the ocean. "I do not have the answers you seek, and I suspect you know that. But you must remember that…they are masters at concealing information. I did not know the Titanus units were deployed until I was informed of the Javelin of Light. After the war ended."

"Hubert," Edelgard warned as she climbed to the deck of the ship, her eyes darting between the three men by the railing. "That's enough. We can't afford to fight amongst ourselves."

"Hubert is right," Seteth hissed from the railing, his face a mask as he turned back to Edelgard. "If they truly wished it, Cethleann may very well be dead."

"Can you think of a reason why you and Fl-Cethleann were not targeted?" Edelgard asked.

"We- we must have been seen as a lesser threat to the enemy." Seteth said after a moment of silence. "Flayn and I have lost the ability to transform into our… other selves."

"And that makes you less of a threat," Edelgard guessed.

"They must have thought that Seiros was the main danger to their plans, for she slew Nemesis all those generations ago."

Edelgard nodded. "What will you do once this war is over?"

"I- I must give Seiros a decent burial," Seteth said, his eyes turned to Edelgard. "I cannot allow for her body to rot."

Edelgard nodded. "When this war is over, we can get to that."

Seteth closed his eyes. "If- if I may see her before then."

"Granted," Edelgard said, glaring down Hubert in the process. "You will have time to mourn, but you will return to service afterward."

"Of course," Seteth replied, his face relieved that he didn't need to fight.

"We're in the final stretch!" a sailor called. "Land soon!"

"But first, we need to deal with Claude." Edelgard sighed as the boat began a wide turn.

* * *

"He does think he's being sneaky like this." Claude muttered as he glanced at the shape at the edge of the treeline. "Now?"

Douglas shook his head as he put a finger to his lips. "He's moving." Douglas whispered a moment later, the older man slowly rising to his feet.

"Making a break for the village?" Claude asked as he kept pace with the older sniper, their bows aimed at the fleeing figure as they watched the man run at the closest building at the edge of the village.

"Curious but also stupid," Douglas muttered. "There's nothing in that village worth this secrecy."

"Think he's stealing a horse?" Claude asked.

"Wouldn't do him any good." Douglas muttered. "Horses need feed, and he's dumped even the edible berries. He's not looking to get out of here by land."

"You think there's a way out via magic?" Claude asked the older man.

"The most brutal attack I remember was when a regiment of mages teleported a squadron of knights directly into a battalion of Holy Kingdom archers," Douglas replied. "Bastards never saw it coming."

"But do you think he has a place to warp to?" Claude asked.

"Doubtful," Douglas murmured. "Especially not after the town guard starts firing at him."

Claude glanced up as the man dove behind a house, an arrow plunging into the house behind him.

"They're not very good at it are they?" Claude muttered. "That was a bad shot."

"They're young men at best," Douglas replied as he signaled to the archers in the village. "There's little honour in killing from a distance. Most of them want to be knights one day."

"Will they?" Claude asked.

Douglas laughed bitterly. "A horse is expensive enough. The armour and weapons needed for a knight are even worse."

"I see," Claude muttered as he glanced down the alleyway that the man fled down. "You have any idea where he's going?"

"He's headed to the centre of the town," Douglas muttered. "Suicidal bastard."

"Then let's grant his wish then." Claude muttered.

* * *

Lysithea blinked at the slice of cake in the hands of Linhardt.

"Lindy, are you alright?" Lysithea asked as she shifted awkwardly in her bed. "I- I've never thought I'd see you up before me."

Linhardt blinked as he cut a piece of the cake, poking the fork closer to Lysithea.

"Lindy?" Lysithea repeated. "I'm not going to say no to cake but-"

"I will admit, I find this experience as strange as you do." Linhardt replied. "My father has… given me his blessing to walk away from House Hevring."

Lysithea felt a grin spread across her face as she bit down on the smooth, rich cake. "This is delicious! The sweet-"

"Albinean maple syrup," Linhardt explained. "When the cooks ran out of molasses today, my father brought them a bottle to use."

Lysithea inched forward to take another bite as Linhardt stabbed a strawberry. "Try this."

Lysithea made a low, pleased moan as she inched back into her bed. "Why is it that I've never tried this before?"

Linhardt shrugged. "I would have to ask about that."

Lysithea sighed and looked at the cake again. "Lindy, is something wrong?"

Linhardt pressed his lips together. "I'm- I'm not sure how to please you."

Lysithea blinked. "Pardon?"

"Father wants me to spend all of today to make you happy," Linhardt explained. "And since I saw Raphael going into the kitchens as I was leaving, I'm not sure if there's any more cake left."

"Lindy?" Lysithea asked. "What if I told you that I wanted to make you happy?"

Linhardt paused before he glanced out of the window at the rising orange sun. "Would you like to watch the clouds with me?"

* * *

Mortis grimaced as she ran from the portal, taking a position behind a pillar on the southern side of the abandoned fortress.

"North side clear!" a voice, likely one of the many lesser sorcerers called out.

"East side clear!" Vito, the newly promoted Solon, shouted.

"We have contact!" a third voice shouted. "Imperial forces!"

"Chilon! Bias!" Thales barked. "You will hold back the enemy until we have secured what we have come here for!"

Mortis grimaced as she exchanged a wary glance with the heavily armoured soldier.

"Bias taking the southern position!" Mortis shouted as she gestured for her battalion to move, the loose, well trained soldiers running forward with their bows drawn, leapfrogging the southern fortifications with practiced ease.

"What are we doing?" Narik whispered as Mortis reached the edge of the tree line, the Arrow of Indra in hand.

"Have your men move into the forests," Mortis barked. "Bring whatever enemies you cannot kill to me."

"Where will you be?" Narik asked as he gestured for his men to move into the woods.

"I will be on the road." Mortis said. "They'll have to cut through me before they can reach Myson."

Narik nodded. "I'm leaving you three men in the towers. Use them well."

Mortis grimaced as she glanced at Kronya. "No chance for her?"

Narik shook his head. "No. There will be better opportunities in the future."

"_Glory to Agartha._" Mortis murmured as she stepped forward.

"_Glory to Agartha._" Narik replied.

* * *

"Careful, Lady Edelgard." Hubert murmured as Byleth took Edelgard's hand, slowly leading her down the plank to the small harbour.

"Send word that the Emperor has graced us with her presence," the captain of the ship barked. "And get those oranges to the Almyrans before there's a riot."

"No need for that," a man dressed in silver armour barked as he stepped forward. "I am Count Galatea. I regret to inform you that you have come at a bad time."

"Is something wrong?" Edelgard asked.

"You have come for the prisoner, yes?" Count Galatea asked as several heads poked from the railing. "He's escaped our grasp."

"Where is he?" Edelgard asked, her voice low as she exchanged a glance with Hubert.

"We've trapped him within the forest, but we have yet to strike a killing blow." Count Galatea said. "To do so would destroy a valuable source of information- and risk starvation in the process."

"Then we shall… meet with him." Hubert said. "Hapi, In-"

Hubert coughed as he exchanged a glance with Byleth.

"Seteth," Byleth barked. "You'll go with Hapi, right?"

"Naturally," Seteth replied. "Having eyes in the sky will be crucial in keeping us aware of his movements."

"Does this prisoner have a name?" Byleth turned to Count Galatea.

The man shook his head. "We were unable to establish an interrogation. We intended to, but he escaped before we were able to begin."

Byleth nodded as Dorothea whispered something into Hubert's ear, the tall man nodding as he turned his gaze to Count Galatea.

"You look like you have something to ask of me," Count Galatea said.

"What does the name Mortis mean to you?" Hubert asked.

Count Galatea flinched as his eyes darted to Sylvain. "I-"

"Relax," Sylvain raised his hands. "She told us about what you did to my old man. It's all good."

"Lady Mortis is alive?" Count Galatea asked. "I thought she was amongst the dead at Arianrhod, being Corneila's equerry."

"We had a previous run in with her," Sylvain said. "But she escaped from us when-"

"We were forced to exchange hostages," Edelgard cut in. "Your daughter in exchange for Mortis."

"Is Ingrid alright?" Count Galatea had turned pale at the mention of his daughter.

"She is fine," Edelgard continued, exchanging a wary glance with Hubert. "But we believe that Mortis, or at least her superiors, have some form of relationship with your prisoner."

Count Galatea swallowed. "And Ingrid?"

"Father," Ingrid called out from the deck of the ship, having been pushed forward by Felix and Sylvain. "Please, I'm alright."

Count Galatea turned his gaze on the ship before he nodded, "I'm glad to see you are well."

"Count Galatea!" a voice called from behind.

"What is the matter?" Count Galatea asked as he turned to face the nervous rider.

"The prisoner has broken into the village!" the man cried as he dismounted. "He's taken hostages in the central square!"

"Bastard." Count Galatea hissed as he turned back to Edelgard. "That's your man there."

"Lead the way to your village then," Edelgard ordered. "Seteth, Ingrid, Hapi, you will be the best suited to head into town."

"We're not going to leave them alone," Byleth said as he turned to the messenger. "Is that the only horse here?"

"I- it is," the messenger confirmed. "Do you need it?"

"Can it take more than one person?"

* * *

"Another massacred regiment," Spite muttered as he turned to Thales. "Their guards were down. Potentially an early morning attack."

"Considering the power of the blasted saint, it would not have mattered if the attack was early in the morning or in broad daylight." Thales replied. "Still, there is no sign of the enemy apart from our dead."

"So it is," Spite replied. "Shall we commence with the harvesting?"

Thales pressed his lips together. "I expect there will be imperial forces on the scene soon. We will… interrogate them for information. Pittacus, Periander, you will reinforce the southern defenses. Ensure that one of these... guards tells us about their numbers here."

Spite nodded as he rose to his feet, silent as he walked the walls of the fortress.

"Addy," Aranea whispered once they were out of range of Thales. "Isn't Kronya-"

"She is," Spite muttered. "I've ordered Narik to see her off to safety."

"Safety? Here?" Aranea snorted. "They can't even grow food for their own soldiers. She'll starve, assuming they don't kill her outright."

"You had personal experience with them?" Spite asked as he passed through an archway.

"Levies sent to guard Arianrhod," Cornelia chuckled, a sneer rising to her lips. "Fifth rate, if that."

"Did they do anything?" Spite asked. "Apart from running away?"

Cornelia shrugged. "I lost track of them during the battle. They're reduced to ash regardless."

"So it is," Spite muttered as he nodded to an archer on a nearby wall. "Soldier, where is Bias?"

"Front road, Spite," the man called back. "Said that she's taking the point."

"Where are the rest of your unit?" Spite asked. "I see three men here."

"Camped out in the forest," the man grumbled. "Lucky bastards at least have some shade."

Spite chuckled. "Where is Chilon?"

The man pointed north in response as he took a swig of water.

Spite nodded as he turned to Aranea. "If things go badly, I'll set a fire. That's the signal for you to advance."

"It's a few shitty knights," Aranea scoffed. "What could go wrong?"

"Our two captives might have mentioned the tower," Spite replied. "It's not that long of a trip."

Aranea glanced at the forests around them. "So you're saying those backstabbers might be down the road somewhere?"

"You know first hand that they're unpredictable." Spite pointed out.

"Addy, fuck you." Aranea muttered as the man above them choked back a laugh.

* * *

"What the hell is he doing?" Claude muttered as he inched closer to the pale pavilion.

"Whatever it is, I don't like it." Douglas muttered. "Still, if he's turning himself into a crisp, I'm not going to be against it."

Claude suppressed a chuckle at the comment. "Are we cleared to shoot?"

"We're about to have company," Douglas muttered. "Heads up."

"Oh look, it's Ingrid," Claude said, his eyes narrowing as he saw two more figures. "Is that-"

"Seteth." Douglas muttered. "Thought that guy disappeared into thin air."

"What is he doing?" Claude whispered as the green haired man pushed his wyvern down, a lance in hand as he slammed into the man at the centre of the pavilion.

"Nothing good," Douglas muttered. "The fire is coming for him."

Claude blinked as he realized the dark fire surrounding the pavilion had shrunk as the wyvern rider fought the mysterious mage, the tongues of flame having shrunk in width, yet grown in size as the green haired man seemed to realize his predicament.

"Seteth!" Claude shouted. "Get out of there!

Seteth turned his head in shock as the flames roared around him, a moment before the wyvern leapt through the black flames, barely dodging the tendrils of darkness that had chased the beast down.

"Seteth!" a familiar voice shouted from behind Claude as he spun around, his heart sinking as Edelgard landed next to him, dressed in a bright, regal set of armour.

"Edelgard-" Claude started. "You look good."

"Spare me the chatter," Edelgard snapped. "We need to-"

A scream ripped through the air as Edelgard turned her gaze to the twisting, flailing figure at the centre of the flames, the pale man's voice turning from a panicked cry to an inhuman shriek as the flames consumed him, his spindly arms turning black as white bone became visible underneath.

"By the Goddess," Claude muttered as he felt his stomach churn.

"No saving him," Byleth growled as he dismounted from his horse, his face scrunched up as he turned away from the now-silent man. "As for you, I thought you said you were leaving Fodlan?"

"Change of plans." Claude shrugged. "Mom got homesick, and dad insisted I came along."

"Hardly a place for a vacation." Byleth observed as Seteth touched down, his wyvern looking shaken and slightly burned.

"Seteth," Edelgard observed. "I'm glad to see you're unhurt."

Seteth nodded as he turned his gaze to the corpse at the pavilion. "The same cannot be said for him. It reeks of foul, dark magic."

"Zaharas," Byleth guessed.

Seteth closed his eyes for a moment, as if running the idea through his head. "Yes, I believe he was attempting to open a gateway to Zaharas."

"I know I've never asked you this before, but just exactly what is Zaharas?" Byleth asked.

"Solon attempted to trap you there, did he not?" Seteth asked, his eyes hard as a slight breeze picked up the charring flesh of the dead man.

"He did, Byleth confirmed. "It was a dark, lightless realm."

Seteth closed his eyes for a moment. "During the first war, I once searched the destroyed capital of the Agarthan people. Despite their soldiers and war machines having been destroyed by the Goddess, the vast majority of their people disappeared into thin air."

"A capital?" Edelgard asked.

"The city itself has since been destroyed, but Rhea- Seiros insisted on building Garreg Mach on top of the ruins of the Agarthan citadel." Seteth explained. "Even throughout that entire process, we found no trace of the Agarthan people."

"What does that have to do with Zaharas?" Byleth asked as Hapi and Ingrid landed.

"My brother Macuil had speculated that they must have had a means of escaping underground." Seteth replied. "Not underground such as Abyss, but into another world entirely."

"Sothis mentioned that," Byleth muttered, his eyes meeting Edelgard's eyes.

"And this is Zaharas where the Agarthans have escaped to?" Edelgard asked, her voice cold.

"That is our belief, yes," Seteth replied. "And yet, for the last thousand years, they have returned time and time again. From this shadowed realm they have struck with impunity."

Byleth frowned. "When I was sent to Zaharas, Sothis said that we were trapped in a void. Yet-"

"Void?" Seteth raised an eyebrow. "Were you alone?"

Byleth nodded. "There- there didn't seem to be any living creatures within Zaharas. No hostile bands of soldiers seeking to hunt us down."

"Solon made no attempt to escape as well," Edelgard pointed out. "If this world was truly their home, then I believe he may have attempted to flee while he still had the chance."

Byleth paused as Hapi and Ingrid landed, their faces pale at the sight of the dead man.

"Ingrid, you said that Adrasteia dragged you and Ashe through Zaharas." Edelgard barked. "What- what was it like?"

Seteth flinched as he heard the words, his eyes turned to the blonde woman.

"Adrasteia forced us to march through there," Ingrid said. "And yet-"

"What was it like?" Seteth asked. "Can you remember anything?"

"Ghosts." Ingrid said after a moment of silence. "We were attacked by ghosts. Adrasteia and Cornelia killed them all, but-"

"Were there any living Agarthans within those halls?" Seteth asked.

Ingrid shook her head. "None at all. We were alone. There weren't even rats or flies there."

Seteth grimaced. "So it seems that Zaharas is not able to support life."

"Sothis suggested as much," Byleth muttered as he trailed off.

"Seteth, does the name Shambhala mean anything to you?" Byleth asked after a moment of awkward silence.

Seteth paused before he shook his head.

"Mortis mentioned it, didn't she?" Edelgard asked.

Seteth raised an eyebrow. "You have my attention there."

"She said that Adrasteia almost marched through Zaharas to drag Kronya back to Shambhala." Edelgard said. "After the assassination of Jeralt."

"Who is this Adrasteia guy again?" Claude asked.

Edelgard exchanged a glance with Byleth as Seteth frowned at something behind Claude. "Claude, do you know that man?"

"Capitan Douglas!" the rider called, his face flushed as he tore off his helmet. "We have trouble."

"Take a drink," Douglas ordered the man, handing over a flask of water. "Your report."

"Get the Count. There's more of those bastards at Conand. Just came out of thin air from what we can tell."

"You can answer me, soldier." Edelgard snapped. "Explain."

The man flinched as he scrambled off his horse. "My Emperor, there's a troop of soldiers that have taken up positions in Conand Tower. Too many of them to have slipped by our cordon. We need orders."

"And you shall have them." Edelgard muttered. "Ingrid!"

"Edelgard?" Ingrid asked.

"Fly back up the road. Inform your father. The rest of us will move out to greet our unwanted guests."

"Do we know what they look like?" Edelgard turned back to the man.

"I recognized one of them," the man panted. "It was Lady Mortis-"

"Mortis?" Seteth hissed. "Cornelia Armin's representative at Fhirdiad?"

"The same-" the man gasped. "I swear on my mother's grave."

"No need for that," Seteth replied as he turned back to his wyvern.

"Ensure the rest of the task force knows that," Edelgard ordered as Ingrid scrambled to her mount. "Claude, you're coming with us."

* * *

_The dead chain me here, and yet they have become silent._

_I am naked against their words. Their truths are unending. My lies were-are unending._

_They once mocked me, but now they are silent. And yet it has become worse._

_There is no punishment, not yet. I am laid out, defenseless against what is to come, but no blade has pierced my flesh, no brand applied to my skin. But I feel it coming. And I fear the judgement that is waiting._

_Mother, I… I am sorry. I have failed you. Time and time again. You struck me down in that haze of fire. But please, do not leave me like this. Judge me, I beg of you. If nothing else, let me hear your voice. If only for a day._

_Please._

* * *

Lysithea blinked as she lay on the field, basking in the rays of the falling sun.

"Lindy?" Lysithea asked.

"You're awake then?" Linhardt asked, his voice light and amused.

"What- what time is it?" Lysithea asked.

"Close to sundown," Linhardt said. "You fell asleep only a little while after we came here."

Lysithea flushed, her eyes darting away from Linhardt. "It- it's just that it's been so long since I was just able to lie down in a field like this. I used to love to read in the summers."

"Back home?" Linhardt asked.

"Yes, back home," Lysithea murmured. "Mother would always… just read to me on this little hillside by the river. Away from the darkness."

Linhardt nodded. "You said that you would be going back soon."

Lysithea bit her lip. "Maybe at the end of this month, once the Gloucester situation is over."

Linhardt frowned. "That's true, do you think we'll be able to find anything from… her?"

Lysithea fell silent. "I- I can't say for certain. She would have been no more than a child when the experiments happened. And, from what my parents could tell, there were no women amongst the imperials."

Linhardt tightened a hug around Lysithea's shoulders as he sighed, watching the sun set.

"Lindy, could you read for me there?" Lysithea asked as she watched the setting sun. "If only once, with the sun."

Linhardt paused. "What would you have me read?"

Lysithea paused at the question, "I suppose we've already read all the books in Garreg Mach."

Linhardt tightened. "That's it!"

"Lindy?" Lysithea whispered.

"Abyss!" Linhardt whispered. "There are countless forbidden libraries down there. All the books that Seteth wouldn't let us read."

"You think he- he might have hidden something down there?"

"Edelgard- Yuri." Linhardt whispered.

"Yuri?" Lysithea asked. "Lindy? What's going on?"

"Hubert told me that the man who experimented on Edelgard had hired Yuri… Because Varley disturbed a library dig."

Lysithea felt her breath stop. "Did Varley send the books to Garreg Mach?"

"Even if he didn't, there's still countless books down there." Linhardt whispered. "We could find something down there."

Lysithea nodded as Linhardt climbed to his feet.

"Lysithea?" Linhardt asked as they parted at the gates of the Officer's Academy. "Could you tell Hanneman where I'm going? And about Varley's books?"

* * *

"Look alive," Spite muttered as he stepped next to Mortis. "We can expect a move out before nightfall."

"What do you think it's going to be?" Mortis asked as she shifted her weight to her lance.

"The Black Eagles Strike Force could make their way here." Spite replied. "Be on your guard."

"The whole thing?" Mortis asked. "But how?"

"Not all of them, but some of their faster units may be onto us." Spite said. "We did trade two of Edelgard's officers for you and Yurius."

"They were captured here?" Mortis asked.

"They were," Spite said. "Still, it would be difficult for the entirety of her forces to arrive here, even if they travelled night and day."

"Why is that?" Mortis asked as she wiped away a sheen of sweat from her brow.

"Aileli, the Valley of Torment." Spite explained. "A fortress that once rivalled Shambhala."

"There's nothing there." Mortis pointed out.

"Except the wrath of the Fell Star." Spite replied. "Stories say that the fortress threw their entire arsenal against the false Goddess."

"Did it work?" Mortis asked.

"Is Old Agartha still standing?" Spite scoffed. "The Fell Star was so enraged that not even the dust of the old fortress was left."

"Then how do you know about it then?"

"The vault in Enbarr had a number of old photographs within." Spite explained. "There was a set on the citadel at Aileli. A fortress in the shape of an eight point star, bristling with arcane and explosive guns, held by one of the more elite units of the old empire."

"And the Fell Star ran through that?"

Spite's silence spoke volumes as he sighed. "From what we can tell, yes."

Mortis glanced at the ruined spires behind her. "How long until we're done here?"

"Our orders are to take prisoners," Spite replied. "Thales isn't even harvesting the dead."

"Prisoners?" Mortis asked. "Didn't you say that-"

"It was something that I only realized this morning, after we left the safety of Zaharas." Spite replied.

"So what do we do if we run into… them?"

"We set this forest ablaze and fall back." Spite explained. "Make it impossible for them to take Conand Tower without a bloodbath."

"Is it likely for Edelgard and her Strike Force to make it here?" Mortis asked. "Even if in part?"

"Certainly possible at the very least. Her armies consist of no shortage of officers familiar with the northern stretches of Gloucester and Daphnel territory, and with Gloucester's idiotic rebellion put to the sword, it is only a matter of time before they march on Conand Tower."

"Are the saints with them?" Mortis asked. "Cichol, Cethleann, and Indech were all at Myrddin."

"That is troublesome, and unexpected," Spite admitted as his face darkened. "Indech could have gone to sea and avoided the terrain of Aileli, or even disgorged the entire task force on the beach to the east."

"What do we do then?" Mortis asked.

Spite grimaced as he turned away from Mortis. "Thales will have your head on a pike if this information comes out. It would be treason in his eyes, if not severe neglect, for you to not have mentioned it before we left Shambhala."

Mortis swallowed. "Then-"

"Keep it to yourself, and have your battalion fall back to the fortress." Spite ordered. "But not a word to Narik. Tell him that I intend to burn the forest down, and that I don't intend for his men to be caught in it."

"Got it," Mortis muttered as she ran into the deep forest. "Keep safe."

* * *

"Ingrid, what's going on?" Sylvain asked as Ingrid landed, her face pale as she climbed from her mount.

"We have a confirmed sighting of Mortis."

"What?" Hubert snarled. "Where?"

"Road to Conand Tower," Ingrid said. "The man who saw it swears on his mother."

"Bastard," Hubert growled. "Count Galatea, what's the closest way to Conand Tower?"

"What about the prisoner?" Count Galatea asked.

"Dead," Ingrid replied. "His ritual backfired on him. Burned him alive."

Count Galatea nodded as he gestured for the young crowd around him to follow. "Try to keep up. It's a bad idea to lead a horse into these woods."

"At least we'll have some shade from the sun." Ferdinand sighed as he stepped under a tree. "

"Ingrid, your pegasus is exhausted." Count Galatea observed. "You will come with us on foot."

"Right," Ingrid paused. "Father."

"We will talk when all this is over." Count Galatea said.

"Ingrid, are Edelgard and the professor alright?" Ashe asked as he hurried into the forest.

"They're moving in with Claude and your man."

"Douglas?" Ashe asked, surprised. "He's here?"

"Along with your blue haired friend." Count Galatea added from the front of the trail. "His name was Bergliez, I believe."

"Huh, Caspar's here too." Sylvain muttered. "Did Anna come? Purple hair, an absurd amount of stuff on her back?"

"The merchant?" Count Galatea scoffed as he led the group deeper into the forest. "No, those prices of hers are a crime in themselves."

* * *

"Narik," Mortis murmured as she stepped next to the leader of her battalion. "You're to retreat. Spite is setting the forest ablaze."

Narik nodded as he whistled into the forest, his whistles taking a high, urgent tone despite his deep voice.

"They will be moving back soon." Narik said. "Let us be quick, The fires summoned by your sponsor are vicious."

Mortis nodded as she watched the various members of Narik's warband hurry backwards, their eyes darting around the uneven ground.

"Where is Kronya?" Mortis asked.

"Too slow," a soldier growled. "Had a tendency to wander after squirrels."

Mortis clenched her teeth as she met Narik's eyes. "Fine, fall back while you still can. I'll catch up."

"Be careful." Narik warned, his voice barely above a whisper. "We are in hostile territory."

* * *

"El, I'm not sure the horse can-" Byleth started as the horse buckled, throwing him to the ground. Again.

"Professor!" a voice shouted from above. "Are you alright?"

Byleth grimaced as he staggered to his feet, his mind taking a moment to process the scene before him.. "I must be dreaming." Byleth whispered as he drew his sword, the point shaking as he pointed at the revenant standing by the treeline. "You're dead!"

"Professor!" Edelgard's voice cried as a hand pulled his arm back. "Is that-"

"Kronya." Byleth hissed as the pale figure moved in the corner of his vision. "She- she's not getting away from me."

"Teach, I don't like this." Claude's voice echoed from behind him. "Back up. I've got you."

"No, Claude, that's Jeralt's killer." Edelgard warned.

The mention of his father's name made Byleth see red, and he charged forward, sword raised to end the revenant.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash, a flicker in the light.

It was only his training, honed after a lifetime of mercenary work, that he dodged the spear aimed at his head.

As the red haze lifted, he prepared his sword again.

And Mortis readied her lance, her face grim as Seteth landed, his own spear pointed at her.

* * *

**AN**: Chapter 39 is complete. Whew.

**Review.**

**Someone.**

**Please.**

Next chapter:

Three Houses- Mortis.

Darkness beneath the earth- Linhardt.

Swords and Sorcery- Spite.

Home- Indech.

The burning forest- Aranea.


	40. Chapter 40

Carpe Noctum. Part 2.

* * *

"You," Edelgard hissed as she pointed her weapon at the Agarthan. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Mortis growled in turn, her lance held in steady, trained hands.

"I asked you once-"

"And I'm not answering," Mortis replied, her tone guarded. "_But I suggest you leave, Saint Cichol._"

"What the hell did she say?" Claude wondered. "I only heard Cichol. What does that mean?"

"_Why do you say that?_" Seteth asked as he stepped forward, exchanging a glance with Edelgard.

"_Your Agarthan is rather good,_" Mortis replied after a moment of silence. "_Especially considering you haven't used it in centuries._"

"Who are you?" Claude asked as he raised his bow. "Don't want to scar a pretty face if I don't have to."

"Prince Claude of House Riegan, only son of Lady Tiana von Riegan," Mortis repeated in turn, her voice low and even. "This is not your fight. Turn around and leave if you value your life."

"Look, I don't want to have to fight ya." Claude scoffed. "You're outnumbered, and I'll feel bad if I have to kill ya."

Mortis clenched her teeth as she inched back. "I delivered my warning. Forget it at your peril."

"What warning?" Edelgard's eyes narrowed.

"She warned me to leave this place," Seteth replied. "Although I assure you that it will not happen."

"I'm sure Thales will be pleased to hear that," Mortis shot back. "Him and the rest of the Septet."

A moment of silence fell as the words settled and died. Then Byleth exchanged a glance with Edelgard.

"Thales is here as well?" Edelgard asked.

"Why wouldn't he be?" Mortis sneered. "This whole detour was his idea."

"Detour?" Seteth sounded angry. "What is it that you are planning?"

Mortis said nothing as she inched back into the trees, her eyes darting from face to face as her hands tightened on her spear.

"Spite intends to burn the forest down to stop you," Mortis said as she backed safely into the forest. "I would suggest stepping away from this area, unless you wish to burn with the forest."

"Your threats are empty," Edelgard shot back. "If he was to burn the forest down, you would burn with us. And then you would either have to deal with us, or die in the flames."

Mortis smirked, her lips curving up just so slightly as she lowered her lance. "He doesn't know about you, not yet."

"I have a question," Seteth said as silence fell amongst the group. "Is your name truly Mortis, or did you steal that from a murdered victim?"

"We don't always kill our replacements," Mortis shot back, the amusement in her voice gone. "Your friends would know that better than most."

"I have a question as well," Byleth interjected, taking a step forward to the cornered Agarthan. "What do you think your odds are, fighting all four of us?"

"Poor," Mortis admitted, her eyes turning to the direction of Kronya as she took a step back. "I think we all know that."

"Then-" Byleth growled as he glanced at the direction Mortis had been looking at, only to find the road deserted.

Mortis dove behind a tree as Claude fired an arrow, narrowly missing the Agarthan woman as it slammed into a tree, splintering the trunk and showering Mortis with bark.

"Is he coming?" Edelgard glanced down the road as she flanked to the left of the tree, Aymr at the ready as she raised her shield.

"No, she wanted to distract us," Byleth hissed as he hurried after Edelgard. "The oldest trick in the book, and I fell for it like a fish."

"We have this flank covered!" Seteth shouted as he leapt behind a tree. "Professor! Do not let her get away!"

"I'm not going to," Byleth replied as he dodged to the left, dodging a series of arcane bolts that skewered the ground he had been standing on a moment prior as Byleth landed behind the relative safety of a tall, wide tree. "El! Stay out of-"

It was too late for the warning as a blast of darkness slammed into Edelgard's prepared shield, the blow stopping her methodical advance as she paused, her breathing heavy as she fell to one knee.

"I'm going to kill you for that," Byleth called as the forest fell silent. "You'll pay for what you did."

Mortis replied with a bolt of dark magic, the blast tearing a gaping hole into a tree, causing splinters of wood to rain down on Byleth, who dove for cover.

"Professor!" Seteth called as he darted forward, crouched low behind a sturdy tree. "Be careful!"

Byleth hesitated for a moment before he spotted the fleeing shape that was Mortis, and a feeling of rage in his chest caused his legs to begin moving once more, past the tree that had served as his shield.

Right into the path of the twisting, falling tree that Mortis had blasted.

* * *

"You there," Spite barked as he stepped forward from his position on the dirt road. "Where is your master?"

The man ignored him and took a swig of water as a second soldier tore through the bushes behind him, followed by a third and a fourth, each soldier ignoring him to drink a swig of water.

"You men, where is Narik?" Spite turned to the only soldier who was still vigilant. "Where is your commander Bias?"

"Bias went ahead," the man replied, his voice nonchalant. "Was looking for- was looking for who again?"

"Kronya, you know the-" one of the other men muttered as he glanced up. "Ah, shit."

Spite raised an eyebrow as the man who had spoken sighed, raising his hands in exaggerated surrender. "Kronya wandered off. We couldn't find her anywhere, even when the order to withdraw came. She seemed to just run after a butterfly or something."

"And Narik is searching for her?" Spite asked.

One of the men glanced behind him as the tall, grim-faced soldier stepped out between two trees, at the head of the rest of his battalion.

"Your protege went ahead on her own." Narik said as he nodded to Spite in greeting. "I was ordered to fall back to a more defensible position, given the fact that she said you intended to burn the forest down."

Spite nodded as he glanced at the road ahead of him, cracking his knuckles as he stepped forward. "And have there been any signs of the enemy? A scouting soldier perhaps?"

"You mean the heat?" one of the men laughed from the side. "I prefer the ghosts to this."

"Aye," another man added. "A ghost you can kill. This heat? Nothing to do but suffer."

"There have been no signs of the local militia," Narik turned to Spite. "And I suspect there will not be any hostile forces in this area for some time. The militia units here would take hours to call into service."

"So you believe we have until the evening before the enemy will respond, yes?" Spite asked as he looked Narik in the eye.

"I do," the other man met his gaze. "No enemy troop movements until nightfall. The heat alone would cripple a fighting force well before they reached us."

"Then we'll be stuck here until we can find a prisoner willing to talk." Spite muttered.

Narik frowned, "Did you hear that?"

"Is something amiss?" Spite asked.

"A tree fell as you were speaking," Narik replied as he turned his eyes to the distance as his soldiers tensed. "Odd."

"We are in a forest during the middle of a drought," Spite said, even as his face hardened. "Surely it cannot be hard for a tree to die in a situation like this."

"It is not," Narik replied. "But a tree dying and a tree falling over are two very different things."

"You believe this is related to Bias," Spite guessed, an eyebrow raised. "How unexpectedly loyal to a commander you have only met for a few days."

"The lives of my men will be negatively impacted if we were to let her fall," Narik replied, his arms crossed over his chest. "You know this, since you are behind her being assigned to me to begin with."

Spite made no response to the accusation as he glanced down the road, making a single gesture for the other soldiers to advance. "Cover the forest, I'll walk along the main road. If there are hostiles, we must be ready for them."

* * *

"Professor!" Seteth shouted as he ran over to the downed tree. "Professor!"

"Byleth!" Edelgard screamed as she ran over to him, her face full of worry as she forced her hands against the fallen tree trunk, her face strained as she pulled at the smoldering wood.

"Claude!" Seteth barked as he reached the downed tree. "Be careful, she could still be out there somewhere."

"I think she's gone!" Claude called back as he ran over to the fallen tree. "Pretty quick for someone in full armour, that's for sure."

"El, I'm fine," Byleth gasped from under the tree. "The tree just caught me by surprise, that's all."

"We'll need to see to your health, Professor," Seteth chided the other man as he grabbed at the tree. "We know where the Agarthans are-"

"But if they flee back into Zaharas, then we'll have no idea of what they plan to do," Byleth argued as Claude joined Edelgard and Seteth in lifting the tree up.

"Chatterbox?" Hapi's voice called from next to their horses as she landed. "I checked out the tower."

"What did you find?" Edelgard asked as they pulled the tree up, just far enough for Byleth to inch backwards, his face an ugly grimace as he rubbed his shoulders.

"They didn't like me much," Hapi replied as she hurried next to Byleth, her eyes wandering over the scene before her. "Tried to bombard me with magic and-"

"How many of them were there?" Byleth asked from his position on the ground.

"Couldn't get a head count," Hapi muttered. "Too busy trying not to die."

"Whatever stealth we might have had is gone then," Claude muttered as he stepped back, running a hand through his hair. "So much for doing it quietly."

"If they fought our forces there already, then it's likely they were expecting a counterattack." Edelgard argued. "Remember what Mortis said."

"All of their ruling Septet are in the area." Seteth said. "They very well could have been preparing a large operation."

"Against what?" Byleth asked as Edelgard handed him a vulenary, kneeling as he took small sips.

"We saw the Wind Caller earlier," Claude said. "He killed that creepy Solon guy."

"My brother Macuil," Seteth said. "And the man who tried to kill you five years ago."

"It's closer to six years now," Edelgard said. "Almost six years since that day in the forest."

"And how things have changed," Seteth said, his eyes wandering to the fortress. "Tell me professor, how did your assault on this fortress go the last time?"

"Surely you have the reports we submitted at the time. Edelgard narrowed her eyes. "Or at the very least, studied them."

"I did," Seteth confirmed. "Both your report as well as the report of Gilbert. But the reports focused on the siege of the main tower."

"We didn't encounter any bandits outside Conand Tower," Byleth said. "But there were units hidden within the ruins, and they came to flank us when we went after the main tower."

Seteth nodded as he turned his eyes to the trees beyond. "Do you believe that we could use the hidden entrances to our advantage?"

Edelgard pursed her lips. "We have a man who is familiar with the area, but I do not know his whereabouts. Besides, we might not have the time to plan out an attack."

"Who is this man you speak of?" Seteth asked as he turned his eyes to Edelgard.

"His name is Douglas," Edelgard replied. "A soldier under Miklan's command. He became the leader of Ashe's personal battalion over the course of the war."

Seteth narrowed his eyes, "And you let him serve you?"

"His loyalty and professionalism was never in question. Edelgard replied. "But he enjoyed Ashe's confidence."

"And where is he now?"

"We left him behind in the town," Claude explained. "We might be able to get him if we send someone back to collect him."

"There's no need," a voice called from the main road. "I'm right here after all."

"Douglas," Edelgard nodded to the grizzled soldier as he climbed into the shade. "You know what we seek to assault."

"I do," Douglas replied as he gave a concerned glance to Byleth.

"I'm fine," Byleth protested. "Some rest and I should be fine."

Douglas nodded as he glanced back at the road. "There's this strange woman on the road. Pale, half naked, walking around with a knife. Do any of you know her?"

Edelgard frowned as she exchanged a glance with Byleth. "Keep her away, I-"

"No," Byleth winced as he stood up, leaning on Edelgard as he tested his sore arms. "I suspect that, if Mortis was telling the truth about Kronya and this Adrasteia, we'll find a use for her."

* * *

"Lady Bias!" the lead scout called as Mortis glanced behind her, lance at the ready in the event she had been followed.

To her relief, the forest was silent, with no arrows chasing after her as she turned to the man she recognized as one of Narik's soldiers.

"Soldier," Mortis nodded in greeting. "I believe I had you move back to a more defensible location?"

"I had them come out here," Spite's voice called from the main road as the older man stepped into the forest from the main road. "Have you encountered… her?"

Mortis bit her lip as she nodded. "It's as you feared."

"What of the others?" Spite asked as he leaned against a pillar.

"I only encountered one of them" Mortis replied. "No sign of the other two."

"Leave us," Spite barked to the men around him.

"You heard him," Mortis gestured for her battalion to stand down. "Head back to Conand Tower."

The men grumbled for a minute as Narik exchanged a glance with Spite.

"Fine, but you will not interfere with our conversation." Mortis sighed as she stepped away from the main group, her eyes darting around the midday sun for any pursuers.

"_What did you encounter amongst the enemy?_" Spite asked when the two of them walked safely out of earshot. "_And which of the four did you encounter?_"

"_The father was there, but there were no signs of the other two._" Mortis replied as she glanced back at Narik and his battalion. "_The fact that they didn't land directly on the beach to the east makes me suspicious._"

"_Why do you believe they didn't land at the beachhead?_" Spite asked as he leaned against a tree, his face in deep thought. "_With the Saint of the Lake, they very well could have laid siege directly against our eastern flank._"

"Are you sure they didn't?" Mortis asked. "If they were able to-"

"_No,_" Spite shook his head. "_There was a strong squadron sent there to deal with the potential… outsider threat. Had they landed there, they would have been embroiled in battle._"

Mortis nodded. "I, about Kronya."

"That thing is no longer my sister," Spite grimaced. "Her mind is no longer intact. It would be a mercy if she died quickly and painlessly."

"I thought-" Mortis started, falling silent as Spite raised a hand.

"I was hoping that we could finish this war quickly, so I could find some way to restore her," Spite explained, his lips twisted in an ugly snarl. "But my duties are to Agartha first, and I must win the war before I could do any research on the matter."

Mortis fell silent for a moment as she turned her eyes to the forests beyond. "When I found her, it was too late. The… vessel of the Fell Star was already upon us."

"Then you were right to walk away." Spite replied. "Were you injured?"

Mortis shook her head. "I was able to use the forest to my advantage. But I have no doubt they knew the direction in which I was running."

"They would have known regardless." Spite replied. "Still, it is curious that only a small handful of them arrived, and from an unexpected location as well."

"Unexpected?" Mortis asked.

"There has been no sign of Indech, as well as key retainers of the enemy," Spite explained. "Hubert von Vestra would break into the Imperial dungeons in a desperate attempt to save Edelgard, and yet he would stand idle as she rode into danger? No. Something is wrong here."

Mortis closed her eyes and nodded. "It's curious they would go all the way around. Perhaps they believed the southern flank was unguarded?"

"Were they on foot?" Spite asked, his face stony as his eyes focused on a spot on the ground.

Mortis shook her head. "They were on horses."

"Very interesting," Spite replied. "Horses are very difficult to feed, especially in a dry season such as this time. And that's not even considering how difficult it would have been to cross Ailell without suffering serious losses."

"What are you thinking?" Mortis asked.

Spite shook his head. "It would be preposterous. Impossible even."

"What is?"

"With how sparse their resources are, I cannot see House Galatea fielding more than a small handful of mounted units at any given time." Spite explained. "But the Almyrans? They could very well have brought along cavalry units with their task force."

"Did Vito- Solon see any of them?" Mortis asked.

"The forests that lead to the coast are thick and filled with underbrush. Impossible for mounted units to move quickly," Spite said. "It would be logical then, if the force our newly promoted Solon was ambushed by was a vanguard unit. It's possible that flying and cavalry regiments were kept in reserve, potentially to raid moving caravans once the Almyrans were set up."

"Solon and the others were just unlucky then?" Mortis asked.

"The dead scattered around the fortress show signs of being struck down by Macuil and his forces." Spite replied. "They Almyrans may have simply walked in on the slaughter."

"Why are you sure it's Macuil?" Mortis asked.

Spite paused as he took one final look at the distant trees. "The corpses of our men had many wounds caused by mortal weapons, and yet they failed to even draw a drop of blood from their enemy. Only Macuil's undead legions could produce such a result."

Mortis nodded as she turned around, back to camp. "How are we going to get Thales his prisoner?"

Spite rubbed his chin in response. "I'm sure I can think of something. But not a word to Thales. No sudden strike forces coming out of the woodwork."

* * *

"I see them!" a nervous soldier shouted as he ran towards Edelgard, his path blocked by Seteth.

"Easy there soldier," Douglas muttered as he stepped next to Seteth. "What is it that you found?"

"The Count- the Count is here." the soldier stammered.

"Good," Douglas replied as he turned to Claude and Edelgard. "Once we're settled in, we can discuss the… secrets of Conand Tower."

Edelgard nodded as she glanced to Byleth.

"I'm fine," Byleth said with a small wince. "A good night's rest and I'll be as good as-"

"You're not going anywhere." Edelgard dismissed Byleth with a glare. "Not until we have a medic look at you. And certainly not onto the battlefield."

"I apologize for being late," Hubert said as he led the party forward, his eyes hard as he glanced over to Byleth. "Professor-"

"I'm fine," Byleth said, his eyes shifting to Edelgard. "Let's just get this meeting over with."

Edelgard closed her eyes as she turned to Hubert. "Hubert, a moment in private."

"As you wish, Lady Edelgard." Hubert said before he turned around to face the party behind him. "Dorothea! See to it that the Professor's injuries are looked after."

Dorothea winced as she climbed over a rocky outcropping, a weak smile on her lips as she walked up to Byleth.

"Professor," Dorothea nodded as she knelt next to him, her legs folded neatly under her as she looked her former teacher in the eye. "Could you tell me what happened?"

Byleth pointed to the broken tree that landed on him. "We were hunting her-"

"Mortis?" Dorothea whispered, her eyes growing wide.

Byleth nodded as he leaned in close to Dorothea. "Edelgard wants her dead."

Dorothea grimaced. "And when we go in-"

"Adrasteia traded Ingrid and Ashe for her last time. Perhaps… perhaps we can find a solution to Edelgard's implanted Crests from him."

"You want to take her hostage?" Dorothea whispered.

"If we don't, we might never be able to solve Edelgard and Lysithea's Crest problems," Byleth explained, wincing as Dorothea found a sensitive spot. "I believe in Linhardt, but so far all our efforts have amounted to nothing. If this is the breakthrough we need to save Edelgard's life, then so be it."

Dorothea nodded as she cast a light healing spell, her fingers lighting up a soft green as she cared to Byleth.

"No action for a few days," Dorothea whispered softly. "Otherwise you might hurt yourself again."

Byleth closed his eyes and nodded. "Promise me."

"I'll do my best." Dorothea whispered as she rose to her feet again.

"Please do," Byleth whispered as Edelgard stepped out of the bushes, a grim-faced Hubert at her side.

"If there are no other concerns," Douglas called out as the assembled crowd turned to face him. "We will begin our briefing."

* * *

"I trust the journey has not been too taxing?" Indech asked as he climbed out of the water, his arms stretching as he shook water out of his green hair.

"Not at all, uncle!" Flayn chirped as she waited next to the water's edge, her hands clasped behind her back as Indech accepted a long tunic from a young soldier standing by.

"Have you thought of what you want for dinner?" Indech asked as he turned to Flayn.

"Fish!" Flayn cheered.

Indech smiled as he looked down into the lake he had climbed from, his eyes turning to the towering building that was Garreg Mach.

"Somethings never change," Indech observed with a small, wistful smile.

"Uncle?" Flayn asked, her voice curious. "Do you remember something?"

"I do," Indech replied. "Even a thousand years ago."

"What was it like?" Flayn asked.

Indech paused as he looked around the nearly deserted harbour, his eyes trailing to the wooden harbour they stood on. "Back then, this was a park. There would be children."

"Did you enjoy the park?" Flayn asked, her eyes bright.

Indech laughed, a wince upon his lips. "No. I would jump in the lake to avoid the children. It was rather difficult to talk to them. Not that Cichol ever minded. They loved him."

"Father?" Flayn asked. "Really?"

Indech nodded as a running figure slammed into him.

"Ouch!"

"Are you alright?" Flayn asked as Indech took a step back. "Lysithea, do be careful."

"Flayn!" Lysithea gasped as she stood up, dusting her clothes off. "Linhardt thinks he might have found something within the library at Abyss!"

"But fath- my brother keeps forbidden texts there," Flayn spluttered.

"And Linhardt thinks that there might be something within those books that could get rid of my Crests," Lysithea explained.

Indech frowned. "I believe that whatever texts he gathered down there would be in the Agarthan tongue. I'm not sure he'll be able to read them, or anyone else for that matter."

Lysithea's face fell as Indech paused, his face grim as he turned his eyes to Flayn. "But I believe I can."

* * *

"I trust everyone here is familiar with our objective?" Douglas asked as he gestured the group forward to a rough drawing in the dirt.

"What are we looking at here?" Claude asked, seeming unconcerned at the number of annoyed faces looking at him. "What? I wasn't assigned the mission to go after Miklan."

Douglas grimaced as he jabbed a stick into the dirt. "This is Conand Tower, a fortress built by the Adrestian Empire seven centuries ago with the purpose of guarding the northern coastline from bandits and pirates. It's been mostly out of use for at least five centuries, ever since the Sreng Castigation."

"The what?" Sylvain sounded confused. "Sreng?"

"Correct," Edelgard said. "It was a campaign launched by Imperial forces that crushed the united tribes of Sreng territory. Afterwards, I presume the fortress lost its purpose."

"Correct," Douglas confirmed. "By the time Miklan had set up shop here, the only hint that anyone had ever lived there was a rusted armoury we found in the basement."

"What can you tell us about the grounds themselves?" Edelgard asked, ignoring a look of stunned horror from Sylvain. "How are the defenses there?"

"Spotty," Douglas replied. "When we occupied the fortress, we didn't have the manpower to hold the fortress grounds, not that we gave a damn."

"Are there alternative means to entering the main tower?" Edelgard asked. "We raided the primary tower five years ago, but we had ambushers coming in behind us."

"There are alternative entrances, but to access them, we would need to eliminate the guards around the tower." Douglas explained, tapping at the map in the dirt. "The tunnels that were used to transport our reinforcements all those years ago are cramped and dirty, and that's assuming they haven't collapsed yet."

Count Galatea frowned as he crouched down to get a better look of the map. "What are the defenses inside the fortress grounds?"

Douglas shook his head. "In ages past, there might have been some ballistae, but by the time we got there, we couldn't find anything to use. There are some walls and battlements to fight a skirmish or two, but those walls can easily be flanked."

Count Galatea nodded before he looked up at Douglas. "How would you approach the battlefield given our current situation?"

Douglas frowned as he gestured to the dirt outside his crude map. "The forests around the fortress would need to be cleared out. Far too risky to run into guards or scouts out there."

"But if we run into enemy scouts, they could be alerted to our presence." Sylvain protested. "Maybe a full attack before they can rally?"

"Too late for that," Edelgard grumbled from the other side of the huddle.

"What do you mean by that?" Sylvain asked, looking up at Edelgard.

"We ran into one of them already," Edelgard growled as she leaned against a tree. "Mortis, the one we traded for Ingrid and Ashe."

Sylvain swallowed as he recognized the name. "Then they could already-"

"Douglas," Edelgard snarled. "If we were to launch an attack immediately, how difficult would the terrain be to cross?"

Douglas grimaced as he turned to the crowd. "The forests were easy enough to cross for those of us who lived around forests in the north, but crossing in heavy armour would be nearly impossible, and the amount of exposed roots makes sending cavalry an even worse idea. The road isn't too wide, and it's possible they set up a blockade already."

Edelgard nodded and leaned back, her face deep in thought as Seteth glanced back at his wyvern, a flash of emotion darting across his eyes.

"Seteth, what's on your mind?" Byleth asked.

"We have three mounted units," Seteth explained, his voice slow and exploratory. "Could we act as a diversionary force to allow the rest of you to get into position?"

Ingrid paused. "We would be flying in without any understanding of the forces against us."

Hubert nodded. "Mortis is also a dangerous enemy to fight, especially if she was to ambush you. She did considerable damage to Maurice, and she's shown here that she's willing to kill."

"She also mentioned that the rest of the Septet were also here," Edelgard added as her gaze wandered over to the downed tree. "Seven dangerous sorcerers in this area, including both Thales and Adrasteia."

"He- he's not going to be able to do what he did in Gloucester territory, right?" Ashe had grown pale and took a step back. "With the smoke?"

"No," Hubert said. "Not unless we came with reinforcements, all marching down a road in heavy armour. Instead, we'll move through the forest, and only use the road if our hand is forced."

Seteth nodded as he looked down at the crude map in the dirt. "I think we should attack quickly. If we were able to destroy their leadership in one fell swoop…"

"We might lose our chance entirely if we do not act immediately." Hubert reminded the others. "Mortis has already warned them of at least our presence."

"Wait-" Douglas looked down at the crude map, a spark of interest in his eyes. "But just what exactly did she see?"

Hubert opened his mouth for a moment before he pressed a hand to his lips. "I like how you think. Launching a surprise attack with a force several times larger than what they are expecting. Still, time is limited."

"And yet we still don't know how many of their forces are here," Byleth observed, his face hard. "Seteth, do you think it would be possible to draw some of them into an ambush? Give them a target they simply cannot run away from?"

Seteth paused for a moment, his eyes turned to Byleth as his lips pressed into a line. "Just what is it that you are planning?"

* * *

"Lindy?" Lysithea called into the darkened room, waving her hands to ward off the cloud of dust that arose with every step. "Linnnnndy!"

A distant, muffled echo of her voice replied from the halls around them, and Lysithea sighed as she turned back to Flayn and Indech. "Sorry, I'm not sure where he is."

"It's quite alright," Indech said. "I'm sure we'll find him somewhere down here. Flayn, do you know your way around?"

Flayn shook her head. "Father banned me from coming down here. Said there were untrustworthy people here."

Indech nodded as he stepped forward. "Then I suppose it falls to us to explore."

"Hello?" a voice echoed off the walls. "Hello?"

"Linhardt?" Lysithea called, her face almost as pale as her hair. "Lindy! Don't scare me like that!"

A heavily armoured soldier popped out from behind a pillar, and Lysithea was suddenly clinging to Flayn's arm.

"Oh, mister Gatekeeper!" Flayn called. "It's good to see you!"

"Oh hello there Flayn," the gatekeeper said with a wide smile. "Sorry if I startled you. Linhardt asked me to help him move some of the books down here."

Flayn nodded as the gatekeeper turned to Indech. "Pleased to meet you, I'm the gatekeeper here."

"That's my uncle!" Flayn called out. "He's here to help in case- in case any of the books have words Linhardt doesn't understand!"

Indech nodded stiffly, sticking out a hand to the gatekeeper's direction, his eyes darting around.

"Nice to meet you!" the gatekeeper chirped. "My name's Kyle, but everyone just calls me Gatekeeper."

Indech nodded again as the gatekeeper warmly shook his head.

"Well, anyhow, I'll be delivering these books to his room," the gatekeeper explained. "I'll be back once the books have been delivered."

Flayn nodded as the gatekeeper hurried past her. "Lysithea, please let go of my arm."

"Huh?" Lysithea blinked, "Did- what just happened?"

"We met with the Gatekeeper," Flayn explained. "I think he might have startled you."

Lysithea coughed and laughed nervously. "Of course not! I would never be scared of someone like that, he's usually so friendly and-"

"Oh hello Lysithea," Linhardt said as he popped out from behind a pillar. "I thought I heard you talking."

"Uncle, meet Linhardt," Flayn gestured with her free hand. "Lysithea, please let go of my arm. I can't feel my fingers."

"Sorry," Lysithea's hands shot back, and the tiny girl was suddenly fascinated with a pebble on the ground.

Linhardt nodded as he turned to the book in his hands. "I found a rather interesting book with some inscriptions that might be useful."

"Really?" Lysithea sounded excited as she looked up.

"Yes, it's a shame I can't read any of the text inside, however," Linhardt sighed as he shut the book. "Not one word."

"May I?" Indech spoke up, his eyes darting to the book.

Linhardt paused for a moment before he nodded, handing the large, thick tome over to the taller man. "Anything you can recognize?"

Indech frowned as he flipped through the pages, his eyes darting from line to line. "This is not relevant to your investigation."

"What's in it?" Linhardt asked.

"This is a guidebook to the fortress of Ailell," Indech explained, shutting the book quietly. "It was destroyed early in the War of Heroes. Nothing remains there anymore."

Linhardt nodded as he turned around. "I'm sure there are other books out here."

"There should be," Indech agreed. "Only the scions of Agartha would even have the knowledge that Ailell once held a mighty citadel, much less have a detailed guidebook on it."

Linhardt nodded as he turned to a side room. "I'll show you where I found the book."

Indech paused before he turned to Flayn, his face serious. "Take Lysithea with you, and get some dinner. I suspect I'll be down here all night."

* * *

Spite blinked as shouting raged from the front line defenses of Chilon.

"What the hell is going on?" a soldier muttered as he rose to his feet.

"There!" Aranea shouted, pointing at a dark figure against the dimming afternoon sun. "Wyvern!"

At the woman's command, a dozen archers aimed up, their arrows aimed at the figure diving at their position.

"What the hell is he doing?" Spite hissed as he summoned an orb of fire. "Is that Cichol?"

At the mention of the Saint's name, a ripple shook through the assembled battalion as more soldiers scrambled up, seeking to look for themselves.

"It's him!" one of the men shouted. "Get him!"

"Steady!" Aranea roared back. "Hold your fire! You won't hit him unless he gets closer!"

"What are your orders?" Narik asked. "Do we chase?"

"You will," the voice of Thales sounded pleased. "We came here to slay a damned Nabatean, and we shall."

Spite pressed his lips together as he gave the faintest of nods. "Would it not be more sensible to set the forest ablaze? He surely cannot land in a field of fire, and he cannot fly on his wyvern forever."

"We would still need information on the movements of the Imperial Army," Thales reminded his subordinate. "I'm sure Cichol could, at the very least, provide us with a clear understanding of what the former Holy Kingdom of Faerghus holds in store."

"What of our patrols to the north?" Spite turned. "We do not know what is in the forests."

"Have you become a coward, Lord Periander?" Thales asked, his tone even, yet dripping with mockery. "Or do your fears stem from something else entirely?"

Spite clenched his teeth as he waved the assembled battlegroup forward. "Scouts, soldiers, support the main push. Pittacus, have your men take the forests to the west, I'll take the forests here."

Aranea nodded as she peeled off, a few soldiers dressed in dark uniforms marching alongside her.

"Will you join this assault?" Spite turned to Thales.

"Naturally." Thales replied. "I wish to see a Nabatean die with my own eyes, seeing how we were denied that pleasure previously. Quite disappointing that we weren't able to slay him earlier when we had the chance."

Spite nodded as he turned to Mortis. "You will follow alongside me. We don't know if he intends to… surprise us."

* * *

**AN**: Chapter done. Read, Review, Follow, Yada Yada.

Next chapter:

The trap sprung- Edelgard.

Underestimation- Mortis.

Journey into the darkness- Linhardt.

The battle turns- Claude.

Faith- Flayn.


	41. Rewrite Notice

Hello Readers.

I know this probably isn't the news you wanted to see when the email notification popped up, but I'm afraid that it has to be said.

* * *

Why I'm doing this rewrite:

It's been roughly a year since I began writing this fanfiction. I believe I began writing the work somewhere between the first DLC and the second DLC, waiting about 2-3 weeks before I was comfortable enough to publish the chapters I had on hand. As I was working with incomplete information in the very start of the story, I was forced to improvise and go with what seemed most plausible at the time. As more information has become readily available in the months since (interviews, datamining and further DLC waves), the original outline I based my story on is no longer a viable one, and to continue further would be to, veer too deep into non-canon, which I'm not willing to do (I'm a heavy sticker for canon).

I also admit that I regret a fairly significant portion of my early chapters and how I portrayed my OC characters. Instead of writing according to how Three Houses plays (week to week basis), I wound up writing on a day to day basis, which bogged down plot development to a boring and rather tedious pace, with "Chapter 19" of the continuation fic taking a full 33 chapters and about 9 months to conclude.

With the Fall semester of my senior year of University coming up, I've decided to start a sleeker, faster rewrite of the story, with fewer POV characters and less "waste". This will allow me to write a better product in about the same amount of time I suspect I would have needed to finish the original fiction.

To anyone who has read the original work, I thank you for reading my work, but it will be listed as Completed as I look to start anew.

* * *

Future plans:

In the meanwhile, I will focus on the Harry Potter story until I can finish a detailed outline for Three Houses (give it a week or so).

Hope to see you all in the rewritten story.

Your friendly review junkie.

Yukionnaboy.


	42. Rewrite Notice 2

I have begun the rewrite under the title "Fire Emblem Three Houses: Crimson Flower Continued." If anyone is still interested in the story, please follow it's continuation there.

Thanks.

The Author.


End file.
